


Christmas Lessons

by Hekate1308



Series: Excerpts From My Mind [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fallen!Castiel, Gen, Human!Castiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Cas was human, the world wasn't ending for once, and Dean's best friend loved Christmas. It must be easy to make the holidays good ones, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I published this a year ago as an advent calendar on tumblr and figured I'd put it up here in one piece. Enjoy!

“Sam, what is this?”

“The last time I checked, it was a Christmas calendar.”

“And why do we have…” he looked at the kitchen counter. “Three Christmas calendars in our kitchen?”

“Because it’s December.”

“Ah, yes. That makes perfect sense. Seriously Sam, what the Hell?”

His brother looked almost hurt, and Dean felt the familiar twinge of guilt. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, they look nice enough.”

They did. And Dean certainly was the last person to say anything against free chocolate. 

But still. The last time they had celebrated Christmas…

It had been before he went to Hell. Before he died the first time. 

Crap, it had been nine years. 

Alright. So the kid deserved a little Christmas cheer if he wanted. Not to mention Cas. 

Then again, Cas was already much too chipper for Dean’s liking.

Not because he didn’t like it when his friend was happy. Quite the contrary. But Cas had given up his Grace during their fight against Amara, the Darkness, had watched it swallowed, never to return, and a month later, he was prancing around the bunker as if he had never been happier. 

It didn’t really make sense, and Dean was still worried that eventually it all would fall apart, but he would take what he could get. 

And if Cas wanted to have Christmas, and he probably did, considering he was eager to experience stuff he hadn’t got to the first time around as a human, Christmas he would have. 

At least Sam had been nice enough to bring him one too. Again, free chocolate. 

“Cas choose his one yet?”

“Choose what?” his friend’s gravelly voice called out and Cas strolled into the kitchen, looking adorably – funny grumpy. Yeah, that was totally what he had been thinking. Cas looked funny in the mornings before he had had a cup of coffee. 

“Your Christmas calendar” Dean answered, and as soon as Cas saw the little boxes, his eyes lit up.

“Thank you.”

“It was Sam’s idea” Dean muttered, uncomfortable because he hadn’t thought about it first. If only he’d remembered that it was close to Christmas. At least he had the rest of December to make sure Cas had a good Christmas. 

He could buy decorations, and the bunker was far enough into the woods that he could chop down a tree without letting anyone know. True, he’d never cut down a tree before, but surely it couldn’t be so hard?

“Christmas calendars” Cas said automatically as he studied them “have been around since the middle of the nineteenth century. The first was built in 1851”.

It was something Cas did, explaining things he saw. When Dean had asked him about it, he’d said he wanted to make sure he didn’t forget. 

Forget everything he’d known as an angel. A human memory simply couldn’t hold the vast knowledge of an angel’s. 

Dean suppressed another surge of guilt. If Cas had never met them, he’d still be an angel. He’d still be up there, and not stuck on earth with a hunter – two hunters whose life, lives really, counting all their deaths, was complicated and dangerous at the best of times. 

Cas was opening the little door on the golden calendar now, and Dean shot Sam a glare when his brother tried to approach the blue one. He sure wasn’t going to take the red, borderline pink third option.

Sam sighed and glared, but took the red one anyway. 

Dean grinned. 

That was, until he saw Cas’ face after he’d eaten the chocolate.

He looked like he’d just had a revelation of some sort, his eyes wide and impossibly blue, his hair wild as always, and – 

A pull in Dean’s gut was telling him to take a step towards him, and then maybe another, and another – 

Okay, he had definitely been cooped up for too long. He should probably start looking for a hunt. 

Cas accompanied them, these days. Sometimes, Sam even let him ride shotgum. Dean usually let them deal with that problem themselves. He had other things to do than to think about childish seat disputes. Although he did like it when Cas was the one to sit beside him, smiling at him, reading the old map from the glove compartment he liked to use because, as he said, “It has history”, now and then telling them some random facts he happened to remember because of certain landmarks. 

He shook his head. He had no idea why he was dwelling on stuff like that.  
He mumbled an excuse and left the room, returning to the sanctuary of his own.

At least when he was alone, he didn’t think about how blue Cas’ eyes were. 

Except that he was doing it now.

Definitely cabin fever. 

He powered up his laptop and started looking for suspicious deaths, his Christmas resolution all but forgotten in the necessity to do something, anything.

“Dean?”

He looked up. His best friend had entered the room without him noticing. 

Cas was holding a small piece of chocolate, shaped like a bell. 

“You never opened your calendar” he told him, holding it out to him, and Dean was about to tell him that he didn’t care when he saw the light in Cas’ eyes. 

He looked so happy about the whole Christmas thing, and wasn’t his resolution to make sure Cas had a good one?

Cas stepped up to him, and before Dean realized what was happening, he was holding the chocolate up to Dean’s mouth, all but nudging it against his lips.

Cas had always had problems to understand the concept of personal space, but this was ridiculous. He should really tell him – 

Dean automatically opened his mouth. 

The chocolate Cas had just fed him with melted on his tongue and he was sure he was blushing furiously. 

He swallowed and managed to stutter out, “Th- Thanks, Cas.”

Cas smiled happily and Dean decided he was cool with it this one time.

“You’re welcome.”

Alright, maybe it would be a good Christmas whether he knew how to do it or not.

So Cas feeding him the chocolate had kind of put his hunting plans on ice, because God knew, if the angel was so eager to come to Dean and finger feed him, Dean was not one to destroy his Christmas spirit. 

Therefore, plan hunting was officially abandoned.

Plan give Cas a good Christmas was back in motion though. 

He felt stupid, googling Christmas, but what else was he supposed to do? He sure wasn’t going to ask Sam about what he’d done with Jess and Amelia, and the time he’d celebrated with Lisa and Ben had been nice but also low-key. 

Come to think of it, it was a little strange that he hadn’t gone all ho-ho with a child in the house, but a former angel in the bunker.

He dismissed the thought and concentrated on his research. 

Ten minutes later, he was sure that there could be nothing worse than cheerful websites that played Christmas songs unbidden. 

Seriously, who wanted to read and be attacked by an awful rendition of Silent Night at the same time?

And anyway, most of these traditions he’d known about already. He’d only ever decorated one tree in his life (and if he said so himself, there’ never been a more kick-ass Christmas tree in Lisa’s and Ben’s neighbourhood, batman ornaments all the way) but he’d never put up mistletoe. 

Not that he’d do it now. One of the guys he lived with was his brother (ew, just ew) and the other…

So looking for other traditions it was.

Oh. That could work. He hadn’t even thought of it before. Alright, they were a little late, but it didn’t really matter now, did it?

Dean often went for drives, even when they weren’t on a case, so Sam and Cas said nothing as he told them he’d go out for a bit. 

Cas looked almost hopeful though, like he was waiting for an invitation one of these days.

Dean filed this away for later (road trip with Cas, even for just a few kilometres – could definitely be fun) and sent out to find a Christmas wreath. 

Until now, he’d never paid much attention to them, but they were still on sale – and if he just happened to pick a happy one with too many colours, well, Cas just liked colours, alright?

Sam was sitting in the kitchen, reading on his laptop when Dean strolled in and put the wreath on the table. 

“Really?”

“Hey, you were all for making Christmas. I’m not gonna stand in your way.”

“Did you just go – “

“Hello, Dean. Oh, a Christmas wreath.”

Cas looked at it then gently touched one of the candles, beaming at Dean. 

He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, you know… we never had one… I guess we are a few days behind, because Sunday was the first advent, but still…”

“No, Dean, this is perfect.”

And Cas was still smiling at him and Dean was grinning back proudly because he could totally do something nice and good now and then, and then Sam cleared his throat pointedly. 

He really didn’t get his brother sometimes, but still, his purchase was worth it when Cas grabbed the wreath and put it in the living room – or at least what they called the living room nowadays – to light the first candle. 

Yeah, definitely worth it, when Dean saw how happy he was to light it.

“This is the first time I’ve done this” he informed them.

Millennia and he had never lit a candle using a match. 

Maybe that was why he was so relaxed about this whole thing. Maybe he was just too caught up in new experiences. Hopefully it wouldn’t all come crashing down eventually.

Either way, he knew, watching Cas, completely unaware that his brother was watching him and smiling to himself, Dean would be there.

* * *

 

“You know, the candle isn’t going to last if you burn it too quickly” Dean remarked the next day, when he came in the living room and saw Cas had already lit up the Christmas wreath.

“Then we put another one on top of it. I checked” Cas replied. The former angel and Google had become good friends in the last month. Dean just hoped that he wouldn’t stumble upon some of the more… gruesome sides of the internet. 

As it was, he just shrugged and went to make coffee. Cas always insisted that his coffee tasted better, even though Sam made it exactly the same way. Then again, Dean Winchester was the uncrowned king of the kitchen in the bunker. 

His burgers were the best in the whole freaking state. 

That reminded him – 

Should he cook a special Christmas dinner this year? If they did it right, he should, he supposed. Plus he loved cooking. Not that he’d tell anyone that, but still – 

Yep, Christmas dinner it was. He still had to decide what he’d make – another turkey? He’s just made one for Thanksgiving, and while it had been a success, it did sound a little repetitive. A goose?

Well, he still had a few weeks to decide. 

As long as it put that look on Cas’ face again, the one where he just sat and stared in wonder at what humans were capable of, the one that made Dean believe for a second he was the only man in the world, the one that actually had him trust that this would have been Cas’ decision all along –

“I’ve never seen you smile so much at the coffee maker.”

He glared at his brother, who had just come back from his run and was grinning at him. 

“Can’t a guy be happy when he makes coffee?”

Sam raised his hands. “I didn’t say that.” He paused. Then, he added, “It’s a good look on you.”

“Making coffee?” Dean asked stupidly, having no idea what his brother was talking about.

Sam huffed. 

“No. Being happy.”

“Sam…” Dean began. He didn’t know where this had come from, and frankly, he didn’t care. If there was one thing he didn’t need, it was another heartfelt conversation with his brother. Not because he didn’t like talking to him, but because in the past month Sam had insisted on discussing Cas over and over again, to make sure Dean didn’t feel “illogically guilty” about Cas’ fall (seriously was that even a thing? Dean just… felt responsible for everything. That was how he rolled). 

“No, Dean, I mean it. You’re way more relaxed these days.”

He was, he supposed. It was simply nice to have something to come home to. 

The bunker had done them all good.

“And you know you deserve it, right? No matter in what form.”

Sam’s eyes darted to the doorway of the living room for a moment, and Dean was lost again. What did he mean? Was this another of those don’t-feel-guilty-about-Cas moments? But then, why didn’t his brother say so? He normally did. 

“What –“

Cas came into the kitchen and Sam greeted him, obviously keen on pretending they hadn’t been talking.

Seriously, what was going on?

He passed Cas his cup.

“Just how you like it.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

That was another thing – Cas was always so thankful for every little thing. 

When they took him shopping for clothes. When Dean made dinner. When Dean showed him movies last week and Cas fell asleep during the third and he let him rest on his shoulder. And why not? He and his brother had fallen asleep on each other countless times; he sure as Hell could allow his best friend to do the same. 

It made Dean feel even worse about the time he’d kicked him out before, but Cas apparently had all but forgotten about that. 

“No problem, buddy.”

He could have sworn he saw Sam shake his head at him in the corner of his eye, but when he turned around, his brother was taking a sip from his water bottle. Maybe he was getting paranoid. 

Cas happily drank his coffee and Dean poured himself and Sam a cup as well. 

He decided that he might as well spoil himself a little (alright, maybe Sam had a point, he was uncharacteristically happy this morning) and dropped a spoon full of sugar in his cup.

“I thought you didn’t like sugar in your coffee” his brother immediately observed. Blame the many doppelgangers they had met over the years, but they were both wired to react to anything out of character they did.

He shrugged. 

“I just don’t take any. There’s a difference.”

Dad had always drunk his coffee black, without sugar, and Dean had done the same without thinking about it. Cas, though, always had sugar and milk, to a degree that was frankly slightly alarming, but he seemed to like the sweet abominations he consumed daily, so Dean said nothing about it. 

His brother was giving him a strange look again. What was going on with him today? Maybe Dean should be the one who worried, not Sam. But no – this was his brother. He had long ago developed a sixth sense when it came to Sam. 

“I told Dean sugared coffee was definitely “worth his time”” Cas said and he sounded so childishly proud of himself that Dean couldn’t help but smile and wink at him.

“Some buddies…”

“What was that, Sam?” Dean asked pointedly. His brother just gave him a sweet smile.

“Nothing.”

Seriously, what was up with him today? If he kept changing his reactions like that, Dean was going to get whiplash.

On to other, more pleasant topics.

“So… Christmas dinner… what would you like to have?”

“Christmas isn’t for another three weeks” Sam reminded him. 

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but we have to make sure we got all the ingredients. Planning is everything.”

“Whatever you make, I’m sure it will be good” Cas said simply, heartfelt, and Dean laughed and bumped his shoulder.

This time, he ignored Sam’s grumble to himself.

* * *

 

Okay, he might have been judging this whole staying home for a while thing too harshly. As it turned out, it could be awesome to – especially if you were on phone duty and one of your friends decided to give you a call.

“Nah, Garth, doesn’t sound like a rakshasa. Doesn’t really sound like a monster at all, to be honest. A ghost, maybe? Cursed object?”

Garth had gone back to hunting after all, although careful to time his cases with the lunar cycle. They discussed the case a few more minutes and eventually started to chat, and it was then that Garth asked, “How’s Cas?”

They had met the week before, when the hunter had dropped by for a short visit, and to say they had hit it off would have been an understatement.

“He’s good” Dean replied, looking at his watch. Past four pm. If he wasn’t talking to Sam, Cas was probably reading in the library. Since the time of depression and Netflix binges had passed, he only ever watched TV in company, usually Dean, although he couldn’t understand why. Not that he was complaining; even though he already knew everything, Cas was still fun to watch to movies with.

“Glad to hear he’s handling stuff pretty well”. 

“Have to agree with you there” Cas was still going strong; the first thing Dean had seen today after he’d left his room in the morning had been the former angel lighting the candle on the wreath Dean had bought, and it had instantly made the day look promising. 

“I’m really happy for you, man” Garth said and he was rather confused. He really hoped the werewolf wasn’t suggesting that he was completely happy about Cas being mortal now. He would readily agree that he was a bastard, but not that much of one. 

“Thanks” he replied, figuring that was the right reaction. 

“Really, it’s great to see you happy. I hadn’t seen you smile that much before.”

Okay, if Garth thought Dean was an asshole he could just say so. 

“You’re just really good together. Everyone can see that.” And he had officially completely and utterly lost Dean. Did he think that he and Cas made a good team? It was true (when they were actually working together and there were no lies, secrets, demon deals or other problems to deal with at least) but surely that included Sammy as well?

“Thanks” he said again, feeling this was the most appropriate response. “Hey” he added suddenly, “What do you guys do for Christmas?” 

He figured since Garth had a family, albeit one with claws and fangs, he knew how to do this stuff. 

“Celebrate. Why?”

Of course that would be his answer. Dean rolled his eyes as he replied, “Well, now we have the bunker and we figured it would be nice for Cas to have a real Christmas.”

Garth chuckled. “I should have known. What do you have in mind?”

And Dean explained about the calendar, the wreath and his half-cooked plans for Christmas dinner (pun intended because he was a freaking comedic genius) and as soon as he was done, Garth exclaimed, “Carols.”

“What?”

“Christmas Carol. You gotta groove to the music of the season, man.”

Dean was pretty sure the last Christmas album he’d listened to willingly had been called Unholy Night, but Garth was right. What would Christmas be without obnoxious songs that made your ears bleed?”

Cas might actually enjoy them, although he generally had a good taste in music (much to Sam’s annoyance when Dean allowed the former angel to choose what they’d listen to during long drives). Yes, he decided that was actually not a bad idea at all.

“Thanks, Garth.”

“Always happy to help. Anyway, gotta go, lives to save. Greet your better half from me.” 

And Garth hung up, leaving Dean to ponder the meaning of his words. 

“Better half?” Did he mean Sam? A strange thing to call his little brother, surely? But – Cas? He was his best friend, but why – 

It dawned on Dean that their friend might very well be thinking that he and Cas were a couple. With anyone else, it would probably had bothered him, but this was Garth, so he simply shrugged. He was just a weird little guy. He’d explain it eventually. 

For now he had more important things to do. Like google Christmas carols. 

Alright, he did feel a little guilty doing that, and he mentally apologized to Led Zeppelin, but what else was he supposed to do?

Although, he decided after sitting through Last Christmas and cringing the entire time, some things were definitely not worth the effort. 

There were other songs that weren’t that bad, though. Rocking around the Christmas tree for example. He could deal with that. And traditional carols were quite good, though. 

He just happened to be a sucker for classical and traditional music now and then. Not that anyone knew.

“Dean?” Cas asked right as he was enjoying In The Bleak Midwinter. 

He did his best not to blush. 

“Yes?” he asked as calmly as possible.

“What are you doing?” 

“Listening to Christmas carols?” he replied, not as sure of himself or manly-sounding as he would have liked. 

Cas’ eyes lit up though, so he figured he’d done something right. 

“Can I join you?”

“Of course” he said, patting the seat next to him, and Cas at his side immediately, perhaps sitting a little closer than necessary.

Human Cas had about as good a sense of personal space as angel Cas had ever had. 

Dean pushed the laptop a little further toward Cas and was rewarded with a smile. 

To Dean’s relief, Cas didn’t like Last Christmas either. True, he looked a little surprised at the many traditional songs Dean had clicked on, but he didn’t make fun of him, at least.

“I really like this one” he said when they were listening to Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.

“Did you? Sing?” Dean asked. In the next moment, he could have smacked himself. Of course Cas had had better things to do than sing. 

“No. We were soldiers.” Cas didn’t look angry though. More… wistful. “Maybe it would have been better if we would have sung instead.”

“You would have made a freaking angel pop star” Dean said in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Cas chuckled. “I doubt that.”

And then they were smiling at each other again. 

Cas broke the silence with asking “Did you open your Christmas calendar today?”

He always asked because apparently he thought Dean would forget otherwise.

Dean, like on the days that had come before, nodded.

He told himself that Cas didn’t look disappointed.

* * *

 

Dena had no idea why Cas had decided to spend the day telling them various stories about the Krampus until he explained while he ate the (frankly excellent) lunch Dean had prepared, “Today’s Krampus day.“

“Santa’s rogue brother got a day now?” Dean asked: Sam, being the little nerd he was, immediately said, “It’s celebrated in German-speaking countries; today’s actually Krampus Night. People don on costumes and ruin around the streets wreaking havoc.”

Dean could have made a comment about Halloween, but instead he remembered something he’d read somewhere and said, “I thought they were called Perchten, not Krampus – ses.”

At Cas’ excited and impressed nod, his usual defensive “I read” died on his lips. 

“Yes, they are. They are… spirits that accompany the Krampus in some traditions.”

“So there’s more than one evil anti-Santa?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call the Krampus “anti-Santa”. He’s more the side of St. Nicholas that’s responsible for naughty children.”

Alright, so instead of simply not getting stuff, German children got a scary monster?

“Who’d want to be scared three weeks before Christmas anyway?”

“Probably has more to do with the parent. You know, be nice or you’ll get nothing but coal?”

“Yeah, because that’s what I wanna hear when I’m a kid and all psyched up for the season of joy.”

“Maybe it’s about earning something” Cas said softly. “So the children will feel they deserved Christmas.” 

Dean studied him closely, to make sure he wasn’t regretting giving up his Grace after all., but it was calmly and firmly said, and Sam, the one who usually dealt with all that reading people’s feelings crap, apparently wasn’t worried in the slightest. Then again, sometimes he wasn’t nearly concerned enough about Cas for Dean’s liking. 

For example, normally he was Jamie freaking Oliver when it came to eating healthy, he had paid no attention at all to Cas’ diet until their friend had inquired whether eating vegetables was really that important and Dean had hastily not only researched which vitamins grown-up men needed (and why had no one ever told him what vitamin deficiency did to a person? Thankfully Jimmy had been healthy) but also figured out how to prepare vegetables in a way that still tasted good and allowed for a big enough dose of meals every day. He had been positively surprised at the taste. 

Sam really should pay more attention. Cas was still relatively new to being human, and he hadn’t needed to take care of himself for millennia before that. 

Dean didn’t care how much knowledge Metatron had pumped into his head, he’d make sure Cas knew what was what. He deserved to be taken care of. 

When he left – he would have to – 

The thought stopped Dean in his tracks. Until now, he hadn’t considered that Cas could have a completely different life if he chose, apart from a simple “Glad to have you with us” when Cas had decided to be a hunter. 

But he could leave anytime. 

He swallowed and concentrated on his meal. 

The hand on his arm surprised him. 

“Dean?” Cas inquired. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” he replied automatically, trying to feel Cas’ warmth not as much as he did. He smiled. “You know me.”

Cas rolled his eyes in an as impressive as annoying show of sarcasm.

“I do. That is why I’m concerned.”

Sam snorted into his salad and Dean threw him a dirty look. 

“It’s alright. Just thought of something, is all.”

For now, Cas was here to stay. And if somewhere down the line he should decide to leave and live his own life and perhaps have a family, Dean wouldn’t stand in the way. He didn’t know why the thought hurt so much. Even if Cas decided to leave, he wouldn’t stop calling or visiting, for God’s sake. But still, it did hurt, so he pushed the thought away in order not to rain on his friend’s parade, who wasn’t yet done telling them about Krampusses. 

So Dean let him prattle on and concentrated on the here and now. Even if some of those stories were pretty gruesome, considering they’d been told to little kids. And to get a ruten bundle as a present? Coal was bad enough. 

Cas looked so happy when he explained all of that, though. 

As if he could imagine nothing better than sitting in their kitchen and talking about everything that came to mind. And his enthusiasm was contaminating.  
Dean couldn’t help but grin back when he saw Cas’ happy smile and his eyes sparkle. 

Once again, he could have sworn Sam mumbled something but when he looked at his brother, he was munching away on his dead plants like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he was growing a little paranoid after all. After lunch, Cas sauntered off because yesterday  he’d found a book in the library he wanted to finish. Not before he’d offered to help with the dishes, of course, but Dean declined. He could wash a few plates alone. 

Sam, of course, didn’t ask and therefore ended up helping anyway.

“So Cas seems pretty happy” he began. Dean was glad that Sam thought the same. He was so desperate for Cas to be okay that eh wouldn’t have taken his own opinion at face value. 

“Yeah” he answered, “he says he is.”

Sam frowned. “Dean, you realize I meant it, right? Cas is happy. He wants to be here with us.”

Something about the way Sam pronounced the last word had Dean look at him closely, but before he could ask, there was a crash from one of the storage rooms and a shout from Cas, and Dean dropped the plate he’d been clearning into the sink and rushed towards the sound, Sam close behind him. 

They found Cas leaning against the closed door of the storage room, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Cas, what happened?”

Cas – blushed?

“In the book I was reading, someone had noted down a file number from storage.”

And Cas of course had had to check it out. 

Another crash from the room, and another, and another. 

“What did you find?” Dean demanded. The Men of Letters wouldn’t have put anything or anyone alive in their storage, surely? 

Cas looked sheepish.

“It’s a ruten bundle. I let the box drop and it came out and started hitting anything it could reach. I managed to get out before it hit me.

“A ruten bundle that randomly hits people and stuff? Who does that?” Sam shrugged. “Maybe a Krampus prank from a witch.”

“Some prank” Dean muttered; but, in the next two hours, he had to admit there was something funny about Sam trying to sneak up on a ruten bundle.

Especially because Cas was obviously trying to hold back his laughter.

* * *

 

It turned out the ruten bundle stopped working at twelve am, hours after they’d managed to fetter it to the floor of the storage room. They figured it was only active during the fifth of December (definitely a Krampus prank of a probably drunk witch) and put it back in its box, carefully labelled so no one would touch it on that date. 

Dean was half-asleep the night before when he realized that it being Krampus Night meant that the next day would be St. Nicholas’ Day and that it came with its own traditions. He set his alarm to a very unhealthy early hours and the next morning stole away to the supermarket. To his joy, they had tangerines, peanuts and little bags to put them in. He made one of both Sam and Cas and was back before they had noticed he’d been gone. Sam had not even gone for his run yet. 

He left the bags hanging on their doorknobs and went back to bed. 

Dean was more than a little surprised to find his very own bag of tangerines peanuts hanging from his doorknob when he finally got up again. He recognized the careful knot Cas had spent an afternoon practicing so that he could do his tie properly when they went fed and smiled. 

The thought made Dean far happier than tangerines and peanuts should have. 

Almost like a little kid, experiencing Christmas for the first time. And in a way, he figured, they were having their first real Christmas together. For once, they had a home and a family. 

He could barely remember a tree and Mum smiling when he’d been little, and their celebration before he’d went to Hell was a bittersweet memory at best. 

This time though they were going to do it right. He was grinning at the coffee maker again, but today it was Cas who came into the kitchen first and Dean didn’t need to look to know he was opening the next door of his Christmas calendar.

And not just his.

He opened his mouth to tell Cas about boundaries (he couldn’t go around feeding people now, could he? But just as he was about to pronounce the words (and he absolutely hadn’t hesitated as if waiting for something, definitely not) Cas put the chocolate up to his lips again and he really had no other choice but to eat it. 

Of course Sam came back from his run at this precise moment and started grinning like the Cheshire cat. Dean coughed, prompting Cas to pat his back and, to do so, to move even closer. By the time he stopped coughing Dean was beet-red. To escape his brother’s eyes he made him coffee. Cas lingered a few moments longer at his side, and Dean had to admit it was a comfort. 

“So, Sammy, liked your chocolate, or are you too healthy for it?”

“For this? Never” Sam replied brightly and Dean ignored the obvious implications of that answer. He thought of Garth, who believed he and Cas were a couple. Surely his brother wouldn’t make that mistake? He lived with them 24/7. He should know that there was nothing going on. 

Not that you letting Cas feed you would give a false impression, his brain helpfully supplied, and Dean only held back a groan because he considered that Cas worrying about him would give more fuel to Sam’s fire. So he remained silent and passed Sam his coffee. 

“I see St. Nicholas visited you too” his brother commented, eying the bag on the kitchen counter Dean now and then snacked a bite out of. “Did you get two bags as well?”

Oh. Dean looked at Cas. Cas looked at Dean. They’d both bought snacks for the other and Sam but had neglected themselves. 

“Ah” Sam cooed, “You two are adorable.” 

“You’re – adorable” Dean muttered, flushing. So what? He and Cas had simply had the same good idea. No need to think about it. 

“So” Sam began, “have you thought about what Christmas decorations you’d like to put up, Cas?”

Dean hadn’t yet thought of that and he would have argued that they had all the time in the world to put up decorations (after all, they weren’t near as important as Christmas dinner) but hadn’t he just contemplated that they were having their first real Christmas, so he might as well enjoy it? He figured decorations were part of the deal. 

Shopping it was, then. For some reason, Sam declined going with them even though he’d been the first to suggest it. 

That left him and Cas. He didn’t mind too much, and Cas happily rode shotgun and fiddled around with the radio until he found a station that played nothing but Christmas music, and Dean couldn’t help but grin when his best friend started to bob his head along.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked and was surprised when Cas answered, completely serious, “I always enjoy myself when I’m with you… or Sam.”

Dean nodded, a clump in his throat he couldn’t explain. 

“Good to hear it” he pressed out and looked at the road. 

Mostly to hide his grin, although he was sure Cas noticed. 

Cas really was happy being human. 

Nothing could bring him down from this high.

Not even when they arrived at the mall and Cas immediately went into the store with the flashiest, tackiest Christmas decorations and disappeared among the aisles.

Dean just followed him, smile firmly in place. 

He found Cas gently taking a few ornaments down from a shelf, all of them green. 

“You like them?”

For some reason, Cas blushed. “Yeah.”

“Alright then. Let’s get them.”

Cas beamed. 

It was most definitely a good day.

* * *

 

They should have known it was too good to last. Of course there would be a case. 

And so the next morning found them inside the Impala. 

“Give me the low-down again” Dean demanded of his brother, who had grudgingly accepted that Cas would ride shotgun. Sam obliged. 

“Kamden” Sam began. “Over the past week, there have been three strange deaths. Niles Rumsford drowned in a bowl of punsch while his family was sitting in the living room. Constance Tyler strangled herself with Christmas lights she was trying ti put up her house. And Elaine Noble was killed when a giant Santa decoration crashed down from a stand on a Christmas market she was visiting at the time.”

“So what? Scrooge the ghost?” Dean asked.

“Could be. At the very least, it’s something that’s overtly fond of the season of joy in the wrong way.” Sam replied. 

“It could be a Gremlin” Cas said, attempting to lighten the mood with his new-found knowledge of popular culture. He and Dean had watched the movie two days ago. 

“Their own fault, then” Dean answered. “Shouldn’t have fed him after midnight.”

They smiled at one another until Sam cleared his throat. 

“The road. Dean, the road.”

“Don’t get your curls all up in a twist, Samantha, I know how to drive.”

Sam wanted to point out that the greatest talent behind the wheel was of no use if they should happen to hit something due to Dean’s reluctance to keep his eyes on the road, but knew it would have been pointless. Nothing could keep Dean and Cas from their staring matching. Sam had long suspected, no, known what they meant. But he had felt certain that Dean would deny it until his dying day. Yet…

Ever since Cas had come to live with them, he’d begun to hope that his brother would find happiness after all. There was little doubt in Sam’s mind that Cas was perfectly aware of his own wishes. He might not have had the greatest people skills when they met, but by now he had to know that it wasn’t exactly friendly behaviour to finger feed someone.

And Dean had let him. 

That was what had struck Sam the most when he’d entered the kitchen yesterday. Just a short time ago, Dean would have shoved Cas away.  
Instead, he’d flushed and started to cough, but he hadn’t been angry. He hadn’t rejected Cas’ assistance. He hadn’t objected to Cas staying very close indeed for longer than necessary. And then of course, there was his enthusiasm for their Christmas festivities. Dean might have acknowledged his feelings for their friend yet. 

But he was getting there.

So Sam let them take off without protest after they’d dropped him off.  
Nine times out of ten, when they had to split up, Dean and Cas would naturally gravitate towards one another as well as share a motel room (with two beds – for now). 

Sam smiled to himself and knocked on the door.

“If I hadn’t seen how much force was used, I’d have thought we have a serial killer on our hands” Dean said as he and Cas exited the medical examiner’s office. “That wasn’t just strangling her with the Christmas lights. Whatever it was, it almost beheaded her. How the cops can think it was an accident…”

“The force used does suggest a spirit or a monster” Cas answered. “I don’t understand why it uses Christmas symbol to kill, however.”

“You and me both, buddy” Deans aid, and only because he was looking at Cas at the time did he notice that his friend’s shoulders slumped slightly.

He frowned. Had he said something wrong? But they’d only been discussing the case. Cas couldn’t possibly be upset about that. 

“Anyway” he said “Let’s talk to the last victim’s boyfriend. At least we got a witness there.”

The boyfriend, Alan Matthews, was visibly shaken. Thank God Cas had a calming influence on witnesses.

“We’d been together for three years.”

“We’re very sorry for your loss, Mr. Matthews” Cas said softly. “One minute, she’d there, the next, she’s just – gone.”

Dean winced out of sympathy. He knew that feeling well – Like when the Leviathans had told him Cas was dead and had made the angel’s body walks into the lake to dissolve – 

Wait a minute. The guy was talking about his girlfriend. The woman he’d loved. 

Sure, he loved Cas, but not that way – 

“Please, would you tell us what happened?”

“We went to the Christmas market – she loved Christmas, you see. Looked forward to it all year. We were waiting to get some eggnog when – “ He swallowed. “The decoration just dropped out of nowhere.”

“So you didn’t hear anything that would indicate – “

“I’m telling you, nothing!” he interrupted him. “The police asked me the same. Don’t you think I would have done something? Don’t you think I would have helped her?”

He started to sob. They left soon after that. 

“At least there’s one similarity between the victims” Cas began.

“Which one?”

“They both loved Christmas.”

Dean nodded. It could just be coincidence, but it was as good a place to start as any – 

His phone rang.

“Yeah, Sammy?”

He listened for a moment before he hung up and looked at Cas. 

“You may be right.”

Tobias Stevens, who had played the Santa in the Christmas market …. had met her demise for twenty-seven years, had tried to strangle a little girl when she came to visit him. She was traumatized, but otherwise unharmed.  
Stevens was crying in the police car. 

“I didn’t mean to – I swear I don’t remember anything – “

It was all he said when Dean tried to talk to him; he spilled holy water on him to be sure, but Stevens was clean. 

“According to his colleagues” Sam began when Dean joined him and Cas, 

“Stevens loved playing Santa. He was the best they ever had.”

“Like I said, Cas – you were right” Dean said to hide the panic he suddenly felt well up inside him. 

The victims loved Christmas. 

And so did Cas.  

Dean told himself that he was being unreasonable. There was no reason why whatever was attacking the town should be after Cas. There had to be other, bigger Christmas nuts around.

But Cas was human now. Cas could fight, of course he could, but he wasn’t as strong as he used to be. If something attacked him and they weren’t there – 

“Dean?” Cas interrupted his musings. He shook his head. 

“Sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

Sam, at the very least, believed there was more to the story, if his bitchface was anything to go by. Cas thankfully let the matter rest. 

“Alright, so we got several dead Christmas nuts killed – or worse – right at the moment they enjoyed themselves the most. What do you think – “

It was Cas who interrupted him with, “A Trickster.”

“A trickster? Thought they only killed jerks.”

“Gabriel was – different. In many cultures, the Trickster only wants to have fun, no matter the cost.” 

“So basically they’re all like “Oh, they love Christmas, killing them like this will be hilarious?””

“Basically” Cas admitted. Dean sighed.

“Even if it is a Trickster, which one is it? There are so many pagan Gods around…”

“It’s a first hypothesis, Dean” Cas said, frowning, and he realized he’d sounded much too desperate far too early in the hunt. 

Should he tell them? But what good would it do? If he wa right, Cas still wouldn’t leave their side, and if he was wrong, he’d scare their friend for nothing. 

Best to keep an eye on him but act like this was any other case. 

“Sorry. You know I hate Tricksters.” He’d certainly raged about their stunt in TV land often enough for Sam to believe him – or at not be openly suspicious; but his little display earlier certainly hadn’t helped matters. 

Plus, he wasn’t that sure about Cas. In all the years, he’d never considered how well the angel knew, even though he’d touched his soul when he’d rescued him from Hell – 

He realized what he’d just thought. His angel? Where had that come from? Why was Cas suddenly his?

It didn’t matter. 

“Alright then” Sam said. “Research.”

Dean had by now given up on pretending he wasn’t good at research. He hadn’t complained about doing it for years, and since Cas had come to live with them and made a habit of questioning him closely to see if he knew any lore that could happen during each case – 

Well, suffice to say Sam wouldn’t let him off with his old “I’m too dumb” excuse these days. 

“Could be a tulpa” Sam announced half an hour later in their motel room, but he and Cas shook their heads simultaneously and said more or less at the same time, “The killings are too spread out.” Sam sniggered. Sometimes his brother behaved like a little kid. 

Cas’ phone rang. “It’s Doctor Marksby” he said, went outside to answer it, and Dean remembered the medical examiner. She had been very interested in everything Cas had to say. Also, she was nice and smart and pretty. Jealousy flared up in his gut. He was ashamed of himself. 

So she liked Cas better. He couldn’t expect to have the attention of every pretty girl all to himself. And really, Cas should be allowed to have fun. That just made him feel worse. Was he really that bad a friend? He couldn’t expect Cas to always stick around. 

Cas was still outside, and Sam was looking at him funny. Dean turned away so he wouldn’t have to see. Cas came back and explained, “The bodies have disappeared.”

“All of them?”

“Just our victims.”

They all thought the same. 

“Let’s hope Stevens is still around.”

He wasn’t. 

The officer who’d been on guard duty swore up and down that he had checked on him only half an hour ago and that everything had been normal; but right after he’d returned to his desk, he’d heard a scream and a crash, and the cell had been empty. They couldn’t explain how he’d escaped. 

“That’s cause he didn’t” Dean said one they were alone. “But whatever it is, it likes to snack on bodies. No spirit, then.”

“And probably not a Trickster. They usually do it just for fun.” Sam said. 

“It might still be a pagan God” Cas argued. “In that case, we just have millions of possibilities” Dean commented. 

“Well, we’ll just have to keep digging.”

By nine pm, Dean felt like climbing up the walls. They were getting nowhere.  
And Cas had received another phone call he’d answered outside and hour ago. 

Probably the doctor asking him out. Maybe Cas would leave soon, in the suit that always became rumpled in the course of the day no matter what he did to prevent it, making him look like the angel Dean had met so long ago, and he’d look at her with his bright blue eyes, and he’d listen to her and laugh with her, and –

Dean didn’t want to be the douche bag who begrudged his friend the date he’d scored. 

But Cas hadn’t said anything when he came back and now he was talking about getting burgers. Count Dean in. 

Sam grumbled until they promised to bring him a salad, and of they were. 

“What did Doctor Marksby want?” Dean asked once they sat in the car. 

“She asked me out on a date.” Cas answered matter-of-factly. Dean almost drove the car into a lamp post. 

And there went his last hope of being something like a decent human being.

“What did you say?”

“I declined as nicely as I could.”

Dean told himself he wasn’t relieved. He was a lousy liar.

“Why? I mean, it’s your call, but she’s pretty hot. Nice, too.” Cas looked… uncomfortable. 

“I – “ he stopped and turned to look out of the window, his hands clenched into fists. 

“Do you want me to go?”

“I’m sure not gonna tell you what to do about this. It’s your decision. Cas, you know how much I like having your around.”

That wasn’t a lie, at least. Cas looked at him, a new light in his eyes. 

“Really?”

“Of course.” 

And for some reason, “buddy” died on his lips before he could pronounce the word. Oh well. Cas looked happy enough as it was. 

They got burgers and Sammy’s stupid rabbit food and were on the way back when suddenly something hit the car and Dean barely managed to stop.

“Cas?” 

“I’m fine, Dean. You?”

“I’m good. What – “

Another hit. At least they weren’t driving.

“I swear to God, if it ruins my car –“

“Dean”.

The windows shattered and Dean threw himself over Cas, shielding him with his body. Cold air blew in. He sat up and looked outside, taking the gun out of his pocket in one smooth motion. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas do the same. 

They only knew one thing for sure. 

They were under attack.

“Do you see anything?“

“No“ Cas admitted. 

“At least we know it definitely feels like a monster“ Dean said, but that didn’t help them much in the situation they found themselves in. 

There had not yet been another hit, but they were sure it was coming.

“Drive”. 

“Cas – “

“We can’t do anything until we know what it is. Drive, Dean. I’ll keep watch.”

Cas was right. As long as they didn’t know what they were fighting against, they could do no good at all; and in the worst case scenario they could end up injured or dead. So Dean hit the gas. 

He had no idea whether they managed to outrun it or it just decided to stop following them for a while, but at least they got away. 

“The monster just paid us a visit” Dean said as he dropped the salad in Sam’s lap.

“What? What happened?” 

“There are three dents on the car, and the driver side window is broken” Cas informed him, probably because he realized Dean was still too pissed off to speak. 

“And you got away?”

“I’d say so, since we’re here” Dean said, grabbing three beers and handing two of them to Sam and Cas respectively. 

“Did you get a good look at it?”

“Sorry, no” Cas answered and Dean blushed as he remembered that looking at the creature had been the least of his worries. He’d thrown himself at Cas, blocking the former angel’s sight as well. They could know right now what they were after if he hadn’t decided that shielding his friend was more important than anything. He wasn’t even that extreme when it came to Sammy. 

“So at least we know it’s strong enough to attack a car.”

“Considering it already strangled a woman, I think that was already obvious.”

Sam gave him a bitchface, and Dean knew his brother had just tried to concentrate on the case, now that he had assured himself that they were alright. 

Dean took a gulp from his beer. He saw the look Cas threw him and decided he’d slow down a bit. He drank far less than he used to, these days, mostly because he didn’t want to be drunk when he could spend some quality time with his brother and his best friend. They’d had very little of that until now. 

He pretended he didn’t see Sam’s and Cas’ pleased smiles when he put his beer on the table instead of keeping it in his hand. 

“You’re right tough. We’re looking for something that’s strong, that’s for sure. And it’s got a weird sense of humour.”

“Definitely” Cas agreed. “It attacked others while they were getting ready to celebrate Christmas, and it attacked your car. It knows what people feel passionate about.”

The thought darted in Dean’s mind that if the monster had really been after what he loved, it should probably have attacked Sam and Cas. He didn’t say it out loud, of course.

“Is there a monster that loves irony and killing people?” 

“I’m afraid with that description we could find several if we looked hard enough.”

Dean sighed. 

The attack had confirmed his belief that Cas was in danger – or had it? The monster could just have tried to kill the hunters who were after it. There was no way to know it had specifically tried to kill Cas. 

If only he’d got a good look at it!

Or any look, for that matter. 

“I’ll put the call out to Garth” he said. The other hunter was their best shot since Bobby had died. 

Sometimes, he really wished Bobby could have been around to see this, he mused when he took out his phone. Cas with them, alive and well, and they as happy as they could ever hope to be. 

Garth was happy to hear from them; he promised to call around, and only when he told him to greet Cas again did Dean remember that Garth thought they were dating.

He really should correct him one of these days. Was going to, once this was over. 

“He’s going to let us know” he said, hanging up. 

And then all they could do was wait, hope no one else was ganked and watched their backs.

“I miss our Christmas wreath” Cas eventually announced at eleven pm, and Dean would have found it adorable if he hadn’t been forced to keep an even better watch after, because who knew whether or not the monster was listening? 

But he couldn’t help but agree with Cas. He missed the Christmas wreath, and the decorations they had put up in the bunker.

He kind of missed the Christmas calendar too. Not that he missed Cas feeding him – of course not. That would just be weird. But he missed Cas’ expression when opening the doors. Yeah. That was it. 

A knock on their door. A little too slow, too calculating to be friendly.

“Nobody open it” Dean hissed, but the others weren’t moving anyway. 

Another knock. 

“Guys – “

Cas’ voice.

_Cas’ voice._

The goddamn bastard. 

Dean grit his teeth. 

He’d kill it especially slowly for that – 

Cas took his hand. 

And just like that, they were holding each other’s hand 

At least it kept him from barging out the door. 

Until it exploded. 

The thing’s playing us, Dean thought, because if it could do that, it could have killed them in the car easily. 

And then Cas’ hand was ripped from his. 

They should have let go long before that. 

They knew better. 

But he’d think about that later. Right now, he knew that Cas and Sam were in danger.

“CAS!”

He managed to empty his gun into the strange wolf-like creature that was clawing at Cas’ throat – or rather, trying to because Cas was still evading it, thank God – 

It vanished as quickly as it had come. 

Dean registered that Cas was getting up and that the door was completely gone.

They were going to make a run for it before the receptionist came by.  
At least they were still alive.

Dean’s phone rang.  

“Garth. All I’m saying is, you better got something for us.”  

He didn't. 

* * *

 

“Why is it trying to kill us anyway?“ Dean asked shortly after they had driven off. 

Neither of them answered. It was a stupid question anyway. A monster was in town. Of course it was trying to kill them.

But he couldn’t let go of that thing using Cas’ voice. That was just… low. The kind of stuff he would have expected a demon to pull. They had encountered a few creatures who mimicked the voices of loved ones, of course, but why did it start off with killing people in a relatively normal way?

Something wasn’t adding up.

“Dean, you should drive slower. We don’t want to attract attention.”

Cas was right. Dean had stepped down on the gas out of the instinct to protect his family, but they couldn’t afford to be pulled out of traffic. Cas had a few scratches and bruises on his face (that thing would pay for that) that would raise a few questions. Another reason they needed to find a new place to stay. 

Cas’ wounds needed to be cleaned and bandaged. 

He reluctantly drove slower until they got to a motel on the other side of town. Sam got the rooms, Dean ushered Cas into their as inconspicuously as possible.   

“Sorry” he said as he cleaned his wounds and Cas winced. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Only he had. If Cas had never met him, he’d still be up in Heaven and would have no need for band aids. He would be safe and sound, and Dean and Sam would struggle down here, but what would that signify as long as Cas was the angel he’d been created to be?

“Dean, your hands are shaking.”

Great. Now he couldn’t even keep his own damn hands under control when he was patching his friend up. 

“Sorry” he mumbled again. It was just – 

Some of those cuts had been bleeding. They weren’t  healing. Cas was human and fragile and could die any second, they could lose him any second, Dean could lose him any second. Why had he thought this was a good idea again? How could Cas have given up his Grace just like that?

He forced himself to concentrate and treated Cas’ wounds as gently as he could. His friend never uttered a sound. He was strong, but Dean had never doubted it. 

He finished with Cas’ right hand and didn’t realize what he was going to do until he’d raised Cas’ hand and pressed a kiss unto his wrist. 

Had he really just – 

Cas was smiling at him. No wonder. He probably didn’t know that this wasn’t normal. 

Oh God. He’d just kissed Cas. 

Dean swallowed and let his hand drop.

He’d best explain that he had simply been worried – 

“There you go. All fixed up.”

Wait. That wasn’t what he was going to say. How – 

Cas leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Oh God.

Sam knocked on the door and Cas got up to let him in. 

Dean remained sitting where he was, completely dumb-struck.

What the Hell?

* * *

 

Once this case was over, he’d talk to Cas. Explain. Tell him that he’d never intended to kiss his hand, and that Cas had had no business kissing his cheek, and then they could go back to being friends without any awkwardness involved. Hopefully. 

What had even happened? Why would he even – 

A child. That was what Cas had reminded him of. A hurt child. And children got kisses when they were hurt – 

He didn’t believe himself. Not a good start. 

Cas had left the room to get them soda from the motel’s vending machine and Sam raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Dean snapped.

“You’ve been very quiet. Something happen?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” A pause.

“Dean…” Sam began again, gently, “You know I love you, right?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I got the message after the millionth time you tried to sacrifice yourself to save my ass.”

“That’s not what I – Dean – “ Sam huffed. “I’m just saying don’t push Cas away.”

“I’m not”.

“You barely opened your mouth in the last hour.”

It was true, but only because he’d been thinking how not to let this affect their friendship. Surely that didn’t count as pushing Cas away?

But hey, he could surely act like nothing had happened. If Sam thought it was the right thing to do…

So when Cas came back, he took the soda out of his hands and nodded at him. 

He was rewarded with a smile, so he guessed things weren’t nearly as bad as Sam had made them out to be. 

It had only been an hour, really. He should stop freaking out at every little thing concerning Cas. 

That was just because Cas had only become human a very short time ago, of course. He’d calm down once he was sure his friend was used to all the stuff that came along with it. He’d only had a short time to practice before, and that had been under rather difficult circumstances. 

He still flinched whenever he thought about telling Cas to go. How could he have treated him so? He should have found a way to keep him around. He should have told him. He should have – 

It didn’t matter. Cas was with them now, safe. And this time, Dean was going to make the experience awesome for him. 

Sam was right. He just had to be nice to Cas. And, really the guy was his best friend. It wouldn’t be difficult. 

“So are we any closer to finding this thing?”

“It’s probably going to find us” Sam, always the smartass, commented. 

“True, but that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“We don’t even know what to do if it does” Dean sighed. “Alright. Let’s start from the beginning. The thing went after people who love Christmas. My car. Cas especially. So what does it want?”

“You just said it” Sam said. “Love.”

Dean spit his drink.

“What!?”

“Love. It goes after things people love.”

“I mean – how – what – “

“Think about it. The previous victims were all Christmas nuts. And Cas is our best friend” Sam explained, looking confused.

Oh. Of course. Friendly… love. Not… other love. Not that Dean had thought about that. Why would he? That was totally – he – Cas – 

Nope. Not going there.

“Okay. But what kind of – “

“A succubus” Cas said suddenly, his face clearing. 

“What? I thought they went after sex. You know, looking all hot and stuff and going after guys – “

“What a succubus truly craves is the desire, not the sex itself. And what does one desire most?”

“The things one loves” Sam answered, and it was a good thing he did too, because Dean didn’t think he could have spoken if he tried. God knew the big word “desire” had a very, very different meaning in his mind than what Cas apparently thought the succubus wanted. So Dean tried.

Of course he desired Cas to stay with them. That was okay.

Of course he desired Cas to be safe. There, that worked too. 

Of course he desired Cas to be happy. See, easy. 

Of course he desired Cas.

What?

He apparently had forgotten to finish that sentence. 

He didn’t desire Cas – He didn’t. 

Of course there had been… thoughts, wishes when he’d been a demon –  
Some… things he’d always suppressed (because, of course, it had just been curiosity, nothing more). 

Some – 

He had been a demon, and free, and –

That didn’t count. He’d barely been himself then. 

So the succubus was latching onto their – yes, their, no reason to think it was him the monster was following – love for Cas. 

There were not many things besides ganking monsters the Winchester were good at. 

But love of family and friends was certainly one of those things.

In short, they were screwed.

* * *

 

“And how do we gank a succubus?“

Cas was clearly crying to recall, and growing more upset at the second when he realized he couldn’t. Dean felt like a douche.

“It’s not that important. We’ll figure it out.“

The thankful smile Cas gave him made Dean instantly feel better. It wasn’t really his fault. Dean could barely remember his Latin; surely they couldn’t expect Cas to know everything he once had.

Naturally it was Sam who found the answer in an old Italian book of monsters.

“A brass knife“ he informed them courtly, still reading through the entry.

“No problem“. Ever since their problem with the killer clown years ago, Dean had made sure they had one of those lying around.

And that was the problem.

Just one.

Of course he insisted to be the one to go up against the succubus. Cas hadn’t yet been a hunter long enough to make Dean feel comfortable letting him take the monster down, and he sure as Hell wasn’t going to allow Sam to take the risk.

“But Dean –“

“No, Cas. You stay in the background.“

“But how are you even going to find it?“

“Like Sam said, it’s bound to come after us. And it seems to be latching on to me. Think of Baby.“

His car was a safe topic. Like Sam said, they both loved Cas, but Baby meant more to Dean than to his brother. He’d fixed it up often enough.

Even Cas had to see reason after a while of pouting and begging, and so he and Sam decided to stakeout the motel in the car.

Dean had to admit that it wasn’t their best plan when the succubus threw himself at him.

The damn thing could apparently teleport. That was one thing the lore missed completely.

The brass knife was knocked out of his hand as the creature started wrestling with him. Apparently it liked to play with its food. Well, he supposed the earlier deaths did have some form of macabre comedy to it.

By the way, it could shapeshift too.

Dean could handle the dangerous animals okay; it was when it transformed into Cas that he got angry.

The lookalike had him pinned against the wall as he struggled and smiled in a completely unlike-Cas way.

“You’ll taste marvellous“ it informed him. “There’s so much love in your heart, much more than I’ve been used to. You’re a treat, really.“

“Thanks“ Dean forced out, managing to kick it in the shins. That did absolutely nothing.

The succubus was still smiling.

“I think I’ll take your boyfriend and your brother next. They have great hearts to - „

Against all odds, Dean managed to free himself at hearing this, and he scrambled to the corner where his knife had fallen.

He wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for Sam and Cas storming in, and for Cas throwing himself at the creature.

For a second, Dean froze; his friend had just attacked a monster with his bare hands -

Then “Dean!“

And the knife was thrown into his hands.

He didn’t take the time to thank Sam. He launched.

And then stopped mid-jump when he realized he had no idea which Cas was which anymore.

It had even copied his clothes, damn it; jeans and a Led Zeppelin shirt he’d stolen from Dean (once again, he realized belatedly). For some reason, that made him even angrier.

“Dean -“ one of them began, and suddenly he knew it was the creature.

Later, when asked about it, he’d simply say it “hadn’t stood right“; but in fact, he just knew. He’d never be able to explain it.

With a bit of luck, he managed to hit the heart too, and the monster dissolved.

Handy.

“Are you alright?“ Cas asked, completely serious.

He’d just taken on a monster without caring a single bit about his own life, and he was asking Dean if he was alright.

He snapped.

He would eventually come to admit that it wasn’t the best course of action. But right then, all he knew was that Cas could have died, and so soon after becoming human, too.

“That was literally the most foolish thing you ever did, Cas!“

“Dean, we needed to kill the succubus.“ he explained, completely calm. 

Bastard.

“Yeah, but not at the cost of your life!“

He actually had the audacity to answer, “I’m okay.“

“And thanks to whom?“

“Dean - „ Sam tried.

“No, Sam“. He wouldn’t allow his brother to talk him out of this. Cas couldn’t do stuff like that anymore.

“You get that you’re human now, right? Throwing yourself at a monster won’t do much good.“

“I knew what I had to do.“

Now Cas was looking angry. As if he had any right to.

“Jumping at something does not count as a fighting technique!“

“You do it all the time –“

“That’s not true - „

“It is!“ Cas insisted. „You take risks, and you don’t care how dangerous they are.“

“That’s because it’s me. Losing me won’t mean much to anyone.“

“You really think that?“ Cas asked at the same time Sam let out a pained sound.

“Look at me. The world loses nothing when I bite it. But you - „

Cas was so good, so pure. He was an angel who had fallen to save the world. The world needed him.

Dean needed him.

“Do you really think that little of yourself, Dean Winchester? I didn’t give up my Grace so you could - „

“Maybe you shouldn’t have done it in the first place!“

He knew he’d said the wrong thing when he saw Cas’ stricken face.

He did what he usually did in these situations.

He left.

* * *

 

Of course Dean Winchester would be sitting in a bar drinking a few days before Christmas after a fight with his best friend. And his brother too, while they were at it. Why had Sam looked at him like he was a douche? 

He’d just tried to make things clear, not hurt Cas. 

Now apparently he thought Dean didn’t like him at all.

Great. Just great. 

“I would act surprised to find you here, but I guess we would both know I was lying.”

He sighed. 

“What do you want, Crowley?”

The demon sat down next to him and naturally ordered a fancy drink Dean wouldn’t have touched with a ten foot pole. 

“Just repaying a favour, sunshine.”

Dean ignored him. Maybe he would go away.

No such luck, of course. 

“The least you can do is pay me some attention, since I came all the way from Hell to watch you drink yourself to death.”

“As if you need a reason to leave Hell. As I recall, you hate the place.”

“And as I recall, you once had no problem with that.”

Dean bit his lip. He did remember. But that was… complicated. 

Nothing had happened between them when he’d been a demon. And yet there had been – 

A… certain… 

He wasn’t gay. Never had been. But being a demon had… lowered his inhibitions. Had made him think about… stuff. 

“Whatever. As long as you pick up the tap.”

“When do I not?”

Dean took a sip of his whiskey.

“So I assume this binge has something to do with a certain blue-eyed former angel?”

Dean didn’t respond. 

“So I am right.”

Dean groaned. 

“Ah, it speaks! Or at least it emits sounds, which has always kind of been the same for you, hasn’t it?”

Dean glared at him. Crowley waited. 

Dean groaned again. He knew that the demon wouldn’t leave until he got what he wanted. After all, they were… or had been something like friends. 

“We had a fight” he admitted. 

“I am shocked. And here I thought you’d been smooching the days away since he showed up at the bunker.”

They hadn’t been in contact since before Cas fell.

“How did you even know he was there?”

Crowley looked almost uncomfortable. It was a strange sight. 

“How do you think an ex-angel makes it to your bunker unscathed? I figured you’d be sore if something happened to your boy toy.”

Cas hadn’t been with them when he’d given up his Grace to defeat the Darkness; he’d known the danger of the spell and had therefore opted to do it in a barn both him and Dean remembered well, resulting in Dean freaking out for a week until Cas stumbled into the bunker, slightly the worse for wear and human, but otherwise unharmed. 

“You made sure Cas got home okay?”

“I think you should know by now that I’m not as cold-hearted as I should be when it comes to you denim-wrapped nightmares.”

Yes, Dean knew. And it was one of the reasons that he would never kill Crowley, if he was being honest with himself. He’d rather have a devil he trusted than start over again with a new one. 

“Thank you” he said honestly. 

And then one of the most famous hunters on the planet and the King of Hell toasted one another.

Well. Stranger stuff had happened. 

“So what’s the problem? As stated before, I fully expecting a wedding invitation by now.”

“Crowley – “ Dean pressed out. 

“Dean” the demon replied smoothly. 

“We just had a fight, is all.”

“You said that. Are you going to tell me what about?”

“Not really in the mood.”

Crowley, of course, didn’t budge. 

Dean let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Fine. So we were hunting a succubus – “

“And I assume it went after your favourite angel?”

“Not only him” Dean said petulantly, but of course Crowley was going to use that against him. 

“So what? You two tried to save each other and only managed to put yourself in danger?” 

Dean looked at him, surprised. 

“Squirrel, you keep forgetting how well I know you.”

Somehow, it didn’t anger Dean as the insinuation had a minute ago. Really, Crowley wasn’t that bad. For a demon who had slaughtered just for fun, of course.

“What then?”

“I screamed at him” Dean admitted. 

“Of course you did.”

His shoulders sagged.

“I was a jerk.”

“That you have always been, my friend.”

Dean sighed.

“I better apologize?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Getting therapy from the King of Hell” Dean muttered. “That’s what it’s come to.”

There was no fire behind his words and they both knew it. 

He stood up. He had an angel to apologize to.

“You aren’t gonna pay, are you” he said. 

“A brain in there, after all. Good for you.”

Dean smirked. 

“Bye Crowley.”

He could have sworn Crowley looked sad for a second before the expression was replaced with his usual snarky indifference.

“See you later, squirrel.”

At the very least, Dean decided, being kind-of friends with the most powerful demon around was far more relaxing than them trying to gank each other all the time. 

* * *

 

As much as Dean was loathe to admit it, Crowley was right. He couldn’t let things stay that way between him and Cas. He had treated him abominably. True, that had been because he’d been worried, but was no reason to scream at the poor guy. He sometimes had problems remembering that he wasn’t an angel anymore, that was all. He’d learn. Although Dean doubted it. He’d always been ready to die for them. He made his way back to the motel, hoping his friend wouldn’t be too angry.

They’d bought take-out, and of course had brought him a burger too, even though he didn’t deserve it. Cas – he felt certain that it had been him – had thought of the pie as well. He’d never felt more like a jerk. 

They ate in silence until he swallowed and began, “I’m sorry. I might have… overacted.”

“You think?” Sam asked. Dean looked at his burger, than at his best friend. 

“Cas, I – I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But seeing you take on that monster … You’re no longer unbreakable.”

“I know” Cas said, his eyes growing sad. 

“Shit, that’s not what I meant! Cas – I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ve already lost enough loved ones.”

He’d meant to say “friends”, he was sure. Perhaps Crowley had dosed him with something. Sounded like him. Cas, though, seemed more than happy with what he’d said. So Dean figured it was all good. 

As long as Cas was content after everything he had gone through…

Sam looked… strangely proud. Brothers. 

“We can go home now, though” Cas said, and Dean remembered. 

Right. He’d totally forgotten about Christmas. Well, now this was over, they could go back to celebrating. Hell, if it made him forget the fight faster, he’d even let Cas feed him again. 

As they drove back the next morning, he wondered if Cas would maybe enjoy driving Baby for a while. To this date, he’d only ever tried that monstrosity of his. Maybe it was time he was taught the pleasure of driving a real car. 

It began to snow. Dean would have been annoyed if it hadn’t been for Cas’ reaction. He was looking out the window, smiling at the white flakes as if they were the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. It wasn’t that bad, Dean supposed. At least it was annoying and beautiful, unlike rain, which was only annoying. 

Plus, Cas was enchanted like a little kid. Just then, “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas” came on the radio (at least it was the Bing Crosby version). Dean didn’t turn it off. Cas apparently enjoyed it. He saw Sam’s flabbergasted stare in the rear view mirror but chose to ignore it. Cas started humming along. And Dean resisted the urge to smile. 

Cas had seemingly already forgotten about their fight. Fine by him. 

They arrived at the bunker at a reasonable time despite the snow, and Cas hurried off to open his Christmas calendar. Dean followed him to prevent him from feeding him again; despite his resolution, Cas had to learn about boundaries eventually. Cas looked somewhat crestfallen as they ate their chocolates together, but maybe Dean was just imagining it. If the last few days had proven anything, it was that he overacted when it came to Cas. 

Sam shook his head at them (the health nut would probably eat his on a schedule so he didn’t clog his precious arteries) and made them coffee. 

All in all, it was a nice, relaxing afternoon.

Just what Dean needed right then. 

* * *

 

“Dean?“ Cas asked as soon as the older Winchester stumbled into the kitchen the next day. 

“Yeah?” he murmured, only then realizing it was strange Cas had got up before him at all; it was rather the exception. Unlike Sam, who was only still sleeping because not even he would get up and run in the snow that had continued to fall, Cas simply preferred to sleep for as long as he could. 

Not that Dean didn’t agree with him, but he had always trouble sleeping since his mother had burned. 

The memory left a sour taste in his mouth. Cas turned around to hand him his coffee and frowned. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, Cas” he replied. “Just memories.”

Cas looked at him with understanding inn his eyes that wouldn’t have been there if they had never met, and Dean looked away guiltily. Until Cas touched his arm and handed him the cup. It wasn’t coffee after all.

“Cas, is that hot chocolate?”

“I thought you might like it” Cas answered. “I find it very enjoyable”. 

Dean smiled as he took a sip. He couldn’t remember when he’d drunk it the last time.

“Thanks”. His friend beamed. “And? Do you have plans for today?” Dean asked. “You’re up early.”

“I want to build a snowman.”

The answer took Dean aback. “You want to do what?”

“There’s enough snow for it, and I’ve never done it before.”

“Sammy loved it” Dean suddenly recalled. “Had to build one whenever we stayed somewhere long enough to do it. Alright.” He really had nothing against building a snowman for Cas. It could be fun. 

So he and Cas put on their coats – Dean insisting that Cas take a scarf too, just to be sure – and they left the bunker. The woods behind it looked indeed like a Winter wonderland; it was still snowing lightly, beautiful, glittering flakes, and Cas looked up and smiled.

Dean was struck speechless. Cas looked so… pretty? Beautiful? Handsome? 

All not words one used to describe your friends. But it was true. And it wasn’t just Jimmy’s body – it was Cas, how he moved, how he talked, laughed, the way his eyes lit up when he was happy. Life was definitely better when he was around. 

They had brought shovels and amassed enough snow for a pretty cool snowman; halfway through their work, Cas looked at Dean, his eyes sparkling, and before he knew it, Dean had snow all over his face. The little bastard had thrown a snowball at him. Two could play that game. 

For the next half hour, the snowman remained only partly finished, while Dean and Cas threw, ducked and ran, laughing like children. Eventually they tired out and returned to their original task. Cas’ hair was full of snow, and Dean suspected that his own didn’t look much better. 

They were too busy laughing to be much annoyed, though. 

“We need stones or something for the eyes – “ Dean began, but Cas was already reaching into his pocket. 

He brought out two buttons. 

“You take this really seriously, Cas” Dean remarked. 

“He needs eyes” Cas insisted. Dean chuckled and complied. 

Cas attanged them on the face, his brow furrowing in concentration as if he was attempting to defuse a bomb, and Dean couldn’t help but smile. Cas’ arrival as a permanent inhabitant of the bunker had certainly taught them to appreciate the simpler things in life, and not just the fact that they were still standing. 

They stood in front of the snow man for a few moments, admiring their work before starting to realize that it was growing rather cold. Dean ushered Cas into the bunker as quickly as he could. Sam was reading in the living room. 

“Where were you?”

“Building a snowman” Cas answered eagerly and Dean very deliberately kept his eyes on the hook he was just hanging his coat on. 

“Sounds fun.”

“It was”.

Dean mumbled something and disappeared into the kitchen. Time for lunch. 

When he was almost finished cooking, Sam and Cas moved automatically to set the table; they had become very attuned to each other as the time passed, and Dean happily, almost unconsciously, started to hum as he heard them moving around.

Sam listened to his brother humming a Led Zeppelin song and ignored Cas’ blissful smile. Nothing had happened between them – he would have known, not to mention at least one of them would have told him. But they’d come in looking like love-struck teenagers, and he really hoped it wouldn’t be long now. His brother deserved happiness, and Cas was good for him. 

Cas and point: The bottle of mineral water he’d just put next to Dean’s plate as well as his and Sam’s. 

Before Cas’ sacrifice, Dean would have had a beer for lunch, no matter what Sam would have said. He’d sat and watched helplessly each  night as Dean drunk himself to sleep. Since Cas had moved into the bunker, Dean not only had started including vegetables into his own portions (he’d always refused to do that when Sam asked him to) and he’d been drinking less and less as the weeks passed. 

If things continued that way, Sam could hope his brother wouldn’t drink himself to an early grave after all. And more than that; Dean was finally relaxed.  
He’d had problems sleeping for years, and he still slept less than he should, but Sam had noticed that he was more alert and rested ever day, and that was slowly rising later and later, a few minutes at a time, when he didn’t set an alarm. 

Things were getting better, and the way Cas was beaming, Sam hoped they would continue to do so. 

Dean and Cas certainly sat even closer at lunch than they usually did; in fact, for all his talks about “personal space”, Dean was more than happy to have Cas invade his. 

Like with the chocolate (and once they were together, Sam would never let him live it down). Still there were some things Sam wasn’t prepared for. And Cas stealing a fry from Dean’s plate was one of them. He almost chocked on his drink when Dean didn’t even bat an eye. 

Dean would have lied if he’d said he wasn’t somewhat surprised to have Cas steal food from his plate; but if the guy was hungry, who was he to deny him? He really had to talk to him about boundaries one of these days, but it was difficult when Cas was so obviously happy. 

Oh well. They had all the time in the world for that. 

And just like that, Dean was struck with the fact. 

They had time. 

For the first time since they’d met, they really had time, and Cas wasn’t forced to leave because of angelic business, and the possible end of the world wasn’t hanging over their heads.

They had time.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“You just had a really weird expression on your face…”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Relax, Samantha, I’m fine.”

More than fine, actually. How long had it been since he was actually content? Cas moved still closer and stole another fry, and he let it happen. They were happy for once. God knew that never lasted long, so why not let Cas have his fun while he could? He deserved it.

And maybe, in a part of Dean’s mind, he was finally starting to believe that, if he could put that smile on an angel’s face, he deserved it too.

* * *

 

A day spent realxing and laughing with Cas at stupid moves and tv shows on Netflix, plus Cas thoroughly kicking their asses at Trivial Pursuit, had done more than just refresh his batteries. When Dean woke up the next morning he registered with surprise that he’d slept for eight hours. He couldn’t even remember when that happened the last time. 

Today he was the one who stumbled into the kitchen when the others were already awake, clad in the robe he’d found when they had moved in, still relaxed and drowsy. 

“Good morning, sleepy head” Sam greeted him cheerfully; Dean had slept too well to bear him a grudge. He just said “Good morning” and took the coffee Cas offered him.

Dean looked well today, Cas noted. Of course he was always beautiful, but in the last few weels, and Cas flattered himself that he had something to do with it, he’d gained a healthier appearance.

Cas had to admit that he’d lied to his best friend – to the man he, if he was being honest, loved. 

Since he’d come to live in the bunker, he’d… pretended certain things. 

Not like he’d done before, when he’d been working with Crowley or under Naomi’s control, but lies nonetheless. 

He was very well capable of feeding himself responsibly, knew how many portions of alcohol he was allowed to consume, or how many hours of sleep to get a night. 

But Dean didn’t. Or rather, Dean chose to ignore his body’s needs at every opportunity while taking care of everyone else. 

Every time he had healed Dean, he’d restored him to complete health. That was no longer an option. So Dean had to take care of himself, or allow someone else to do it. He wouldn’t do that, either, so that left being sneaky. 

And that entailed acting clueless, forcing Dean to act as a good example. So far, it had worked, and Dean had even slept through the night; a relief for the former angel who’d more than once soothed his nightmares with a touch of his hand. Dean didn’t only look well, but… comfortable and warm, and Cas resisted the impulse to step closer as he handed him his coffee. He’d indulged enough in the last few weeks. He loved Dean; he couldn’t help it; sometime she thought he’d felt something for him since he’d saved the pourest soul he’d ever seen from Hell. Nothing would come of it, of course. 

Dean didn’t reciprocate his feelings. And any indulgence he permitted himself could only hurt in the long run. 

But it just felt so good, so right to be close, to touch him, if only fleetingly. And sometimes, he fancied that Dean didn’t have anything against it. 

He always tried to suppress these thoughts immediately, of course, but only yesterday, when Dean had been laughing at the movie they were watching and the distance between them had slowly diminished, or when he’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and Dean hadn’t woken him up… 

He quickly concentrated in making himself coffee to dispel any hope that might unjustly arise in him. Dean didn’t deserve to be objectified by anyone, and so he would do his best to suppress and eventually conquer the emotions while being the friend Dean needed.  

His eyes followed Dean as the hunter opened his Christmas calendar (he knew it was wrong, but Dean took the chocolate from his fingers willingly, and Cas wanted to move his hand, wanted to trail it along his cheek – no, no, he’d stop, it was wrong).

Afterwards, Dean went into the living room, and Cas did his best to avoid Sam’s eyes. He suspected his younger friend knew too much. 

“Apparantly building the snowman tired him out” Sam commented. Cas still didn’t look at him. He knew well enough that such a snetnece usually meant Sam wanted to talk. 

He should probably have followed Dean’s admittedly unhealthy example and left the room, but he was too caught up in the memory of the snow flakes caught in Dean’s eyelashes, and when he finally looked up from his coffee, 

Sam was smiling a smile that Dean would probably have called “annoying”. 

At the moment, Cas was inclined to agree with him. 

“We had a snowball fight” he answered matter-of.factly. 

“Oh?”

“Dean is very – competitive”. Sam laughed. 

“That’s an understatement.”

“We had fun” Cas supplied, hoping this talk wasn’t going where he thought it was. 

“I’m happy for you, you know that? Dean will ned some time to gte it through that thick skull of his, but – “

“Sam, I would appreciate it if you changed the subject. What you’re alluding to – it’s not – It won’t happen”.

Sam stared at him. “What?”

Cas sighed. He would have to be honest so Sam wouldn’t want to talk about it again. 

“I love Dean” he simply said; he had underestimated how much relief the confession would bring, and he took a deep breath before continuing, but he’s not interested in men romantically. He will never me as more tzhan a friend. I want to be there for him in whatever way possible.”

“But Cas – “

“No, Sam, please respect my wishes.”

It was below him to beg silence from his friend, but he just couldn’t speak about it. He was happy. True, not as much as he would be if something impossible came to pass, but he was content with the lot he had been given. He could be there for the best two friends he had ever made and he could watch over the Righteous Man as he had always done. It was enough because it had to be. 

Certain… desires would have to remain unfulfilles, of course, but didn’t mean he couldn’t live his life to the fullest. 

He followed Dean into the living room to find him reading. His friend always insisted he was dumb, but how he reconciled that with his practical knowledge, quick thinking and only partly-hidden appetite for books, Cas had no idea. His heart always grew heavy when he contemplated how little Dean thought of himself. 

“Hello, Dean”.

“Cas” he replied, his eyes never leaving the page of A Christmas Carol he was on. 

He then seemed to recall that someone had spoken to him and put the book away, blushing.

“Sorry. Favourite chapter.”

“Which one?”

“What?”

“I’m familiar with Dickens. What is your favourite?”

“The ghost of Christmas past” Dean admitted. 

Cas nodded. There was a request at the tip of his tongue, but he certainly shouldn’t indulge himself; he’d done that enough already. 

“Cas? You okay?”

“Yes” he answered and before he could stop himself continued, “Would you read to me?”

“You want me to do what?”

Now it was Cas’ turn to blush. 

“You have a beautiful voice” he all but whispered, and Dean stared at him before clearing his throat and beginning, “Marley was dead, to begin with.”

A few pages in, Sam strolled into the room and sat down opposite his brother, not even pretending to do anything other than listen, as he had no doubt done countless times when they had been children. When Dean paused to breathe, he simply said, “You always were good at that.”

Dean didn’t comment. 

Cas smiled.

They sat there for hours, nearly missing lunch. None of them cared.

* * *

 

Another night he’d slept through. 

Count it as a Christmas miracle. 

After dinner last night, Cas had insisted he read to him again, Sam joining them as well; perhaps it had tired Dean out; if his friend was still an angel, he would suspect that he mojod him to sleep.

He didn’t really care. It was close to Christmas, nothing pressing was at hand, Cas was happy and Dean was actually feeling good. 

It was a new feeling. New, but nice. 

This time, he was the first one up (hey, so Mr. Health liked the excuse of it being too cold for exercise). 

A few calls came in, other hunters who needed help, and he contemplated that they had slowly started to fill Bobby’s old role. 

He thought he would be proud of them. 

Sam came into the kitchen and found that his brother was happy and well-rested. Again. 

He had no idea what Cas was doing, but it was working better than any angel mojo he’d ever had. 

Then again, when Cas came in and stood unnecessarily close to Dean just to get his coffee, he admitted to himself that he knew exactly what the angel was doing. 

And he was certainly not going to stop him. 

Dean would probably kill him if he found out what he was thinking, but Sam didn’t care. As long as they ended up happy…

Dean still hadn’t admitted to himself what was going on, he was sure. But at the same time, he had no problems with growing closer and closer to Cas; that certainly was a good sign? 

The phone rang and he offered to get it. Since Dean was too focused on making his precious angel a good healthy breakfast to answer, he took it as a sign of approval. It was Garth. 

“Hey, Sam!” 

As always, he was excited and cheerful, and the talk brought Sam even more enjoyment than usual because, after they had talked about the case Garth was working on, he inquired, “How are the lovebirds?”

Sam chuckled. “Joined at the hip. Don’t tell Dean I said, though.”

“Why? He’s clearly head over heels for his boyfriend.”

That stopped Sam. Garth thought they were together. He had to set him right before he said something in front of Dean that would harm their chances of actually being so one day. 

“They’re not a couple.”

“What?”

“They’re not together. Dean – it’s complicated.”

“But we talked about it. And he was totally cool with it! You sure they’re not together?”

“Wait – you talked about it and Dean didn’t correct you?”

“No!”

Well, hello plot twist. So at the very least Cas meant so much to Dean that Mr. I-don’t-swing-that-way was ready to let it slide that someone thought he and another man were a couple.

Things were looking up.

When he returned to the kitchen, Cas had apparently just asked a question about fresh fruit, and suddenly Dean could totally google all the facts they had to know about nutrition. 

Sam shot Cas a look to tell him he knew exactly what he was doing, but Cas answered him with a completely innocent one. 

That sneaky bastard. He supposed he would have to be, though; he hadn’t been garrison leader for nothing. 

“Fruit? I thought you said only rabbits ate that.”

“Cas asked me” Dean answered matter-of-factly. “You know he hasn’t been… human for long, Sammy. I’m not going to let him get hurt because he doesn’t know all that stuff.”

Because pineapples were the scariest thing in existence. Sam managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

That was it. Someone had to take action.

And that someone would obviously have to be Sam. 

Call it an early Christmas present.

* * *

 

Since Dean had obviously decided that Cas wanting Christmas meant using every tacky tradition that had ever been associated with the holiday, Sam thought that mistletoe was the way to go.

Sadly, he would have to place it where Dean didn’t see and take it away immediately, because of course he’d freak. 

Cas had to be the one to find it, and in such a way that Dean couldn’t say no. 

It might seem strange that he gave as much consideriation as to where he should put up mistletoes in the bunker than to how to kill monsters, but God knew it was time for those two to get over themselves.

The kitchen? But Dean always made coffee first thing when he got up…

The library, maybe. He was bound to look for Cas there eventually.

Sam congratulated himself on a job well done. 

Too soon. And he had only his own hubris to blame for it. 

Seriously, Dean had read to them a short while ago; what had made him think that he didn’t visit the library now and then? He had still been seeing him as the man his brother had tried to be for so long – kind of dumb, annoying, “manly”.  
Sam had been an idiot. 

Which was why Dean came into the living room that day, carrying a book and a mistletoes, and threw the latter at Sam.

“Very funny, Sammy.”

Sam looked at the book he was carrying – Bradbury – and realized he’d been a hypocritical idiot. 

Dean liked to read. He should have paid better attention. 

Cas came in and stared at the mistletoe.

Perhaps Sam should have told him his plan, because it was clear the ex-angel had no idea how to react. He had been playing clueless for a while now when it came to a whole number of topics, but not even Dean would believe he didn’t know what mistletoe was. 

“Did you buy this?” he eventually asked, and Sam decided that he’d handled the situation pretty well.

Dean sniggered. “Just Sam trying to be funny.”

“I don’t see what’s funny about it” Cas replied, frowning, and Sam’s heart sank.

This had been a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Kissing Cas had never even crossed Dean’s mind. 

He’d looked at the mistletoe, laughed to himself and thrown it at Sam’s face. 

He’d not even contemplated – 

If Cas saw it the same way, he would be crushed. 

At first, he didn’t say anything, not even when Dean strolled over and picked up the mistletoe. 

“I never got the tradition, to be honest. Why should a plant make someone kiss?”

Cas opened his mouth and Sam expected an explanation, but instead he closed it again, and Sam saw a look that was a mixture of desperation and determination pass his face before he pulled Dean into a kiss. 

Sam sat there, completely shocked.

That was not how he planned things to go at all.

Wait – 

Dean was kissing back.

_Oh, thank God._

But before Sam could actually break into a whistle, or do anything else annoying little brother were supposed to do when they were happy, Dean pushed Cas away.

“What – Cas – what the Hell are you doing?”

“Kissing you” he replied.

“But – why – “

“Because I love you.”

Sam shouldn’t be here for this.

He didn’t want to be here for this, for Dean to look furious, hiss “Never do that again” and storm out. 

By the time Sam had recovered enough to speak, Cas had left the living room as well. He heard Cas’ door slam. 

That wasn’t what he wanted at all. 

Dean couldn’t believe it. How could Cas just kiss him like that and profess his love? There was nothing about him worth loving. The fallen angel deserved so much more.

He was angry, angry at Cas, angry at Sam, and mostly angry at himself, and he did the one thing that always helped. 

He drove.

* * *

 

Dean drove without realizing where. 

That kiss kept repeating itself in his mind.

That kiss.

It had taken him completely by surprise; how could he have seen that coming? Cas had had a few problems with personal space, but that had always been true. And yes, he had happily fed Dean chocolate, and had hung on his every word, and – 

God damnit. He should have seen it coming. 

When he looked back on everything that had happened in the past few weeks, things became very clear indeed. 

Cas thought he was in love with him. He couldn’t be, really. No one could fall in love with him. God knew he had proven that often enough. Cassie, Lisa… they had been in love with an idea of him, not the real him. Of the hero he had never been. And with Cas, it was the same. He was in love with what he thought was the Righteous Man. 

Dean had to stop the car because his hands were shaking and he had trouble breathing.

Were that tears? Why the hell was he crying? He was upset, yeah, but not that much. Cas had made a mistake, and as soon as he calmed down, they could talk about it. They had to talk about it. He couldn’t lose Cas. The last few weeks had been great. 

He had felt better than he had in years. He had been happy.

He should have known it couldn’t last. 

Why did Cas have to kiss him? 

Maybe he hadn’t meant it? Maybe he’d just seen the mistletoe and decided that was something he had to do? But Cas couldn’t be that dense. Cas had been a soldier, for crying out loud. He knew you couldn’t just run around kissing people, or standing too close to people, or feeding people – 

Good God. It was his own fault. Why hadn’t he known? Why hadn’t he realized? 

He had procrastinated on talking to Cas about personal space and stuff. No wonder he’d thought it was okay to kiss him.

He’d probably thought Dean wanted it. And Dean had just left, and now Cas was probably heartbroken and packing and leaving like he had done so many times…

He had to calm down. He couldn’t fix this if he was freaking out. And he had to somehow fix this. 

He just…

He just had to.

He drove on. 

* * *

Good God, what had just happened? Sam had thought they were moving forward, Dean finally realizing he was allowed to be happy, and happy with Cas at that. 

To be honest, Sam had always imagined (and – boy, was that a weird thought how much time he’d spent contemplating his brother and his best friend getting it on) that Dean and Cas getting together would be spontaneous, a kiss in the heat of the moment. Not that Dean wasn’t romantic; oh no, he was bound to get cheesy somewhere down the line; but not before they were a couple and he grew comfortable with the idea. 

And he had kissed back. Sam had seen it – he hadn’t really enjoyed watching them making out, but since they did it in front of him, he had seen it – and he was certain of that. 

The problem was that Dean probably didn’t realize he had. His brother was the world champion of denial. 

And now he had left and Cas had barricaded himself in his room. 

He knew Dean. He would come back eventually, especially since he wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of Cas leaving. 

So Sam had to make sure he didn’t. If Cas thought he wasn’t wanted here…

He knocked on his door. No response. 

He sighed and walked in anyway. 

Cas was reading A Christmas Carol. He looked calm, but remembering how he had acted when Sam had first met him, that didn’t mean much. 

“Cas – “

“Yes, Sam.”

He sighed. Of all the things Cas could have taken from Dean, ignoring his problems shouldn’t be one of them. 

“Cas –“

“Please, Sam. I made a mistake. I realize that. I shouldn’t have presumed. Dean is my friend. He wanted to… make me happy and I mistook that for…”

“That’s not true –“

“It is. He ran, Sam.”

Sam should perhaps have been less forceful, but he was tired. Tired of Dean’s and Cas’ insecurities standing in the way of their happiness, tired of them dancing around each other. 

“So he didn’t kiss back?”

Cas flinched. 

“Answer me. Did he?”

Cas nodded, but he looked guilty.

“Yes. And you know what?” he looked up from his book. 

“I saw Dean’s memories when I saved him from Hell. It wasn’t intentional; I touched his soul, and… Dean has been in some situations where… Have you never noticed that no matter who kisses him, he reciprocates at least a little bit? I forced myself on him, like a demon, like a monster – “

He broke off. 

“That’s not – “

“Please, Sam. I need to be alone.”

And he wouldn’t talk anymore, no matter what Sam said. 

He left him in his room and thought about calling Dean. But if he tried to reach him too early, he would just close himself off. 

But if he waited too long, Cas might leave, convinced he had forced himself on him. 

He feared that this time, things were indeed screwed beyond repair.

* * *

Dean jerked awake. He had eventually checked into a dirty motel when he couldn’t drive anymore.

He was now hours away from the bunker. 

He didn’t remember the nightmare, he just knew that it had featured Cas. What else? Cas hating him. Cas leaving. 

Dean shivered. 

He had slept so well these past few days… With Cas and Sam just around the corner.  
Not that he’d deserved it, but still.

Maybe Cas would be gone when he finally returned. And it would serve him right. He had never deserved to have him in his life. 

He closed his eyes and tried to will himself back to sleep.

It didn’t really work.  

* * *

 

Sam had barely slept that night, waiting for Dean to get in touch. He never had. 

And he only had to take one look at Cas to know that he hadn’t called him either. 

Cas had made coffee. He greeted him politely but didn’t say anything about Dean. He didn’t look well. 

He hadn’t opened his Christmas calendar, Sam noted, and he doubted he would now. He certainly wouldn’t remind him. 

How had this even happened? A few days ago, everything had looked so good, like things were finally starting to mend. Dean had been happy. Why did his brother have to be such an idiot?

* * *

Dean was still driving. Another hour put between him and Cas. Between him and that kiss. Between him and that – 

What was he even fleeing from? Cas would understand; they could talk. True, his usual flight response had kicked in, but why was he still driving? 

He should stop. He was going to stop soon. 

He just needed some time for himself. Some time to come to terms with Cas kissing him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Who did that?

Anyway, they would be able to save their friendship. Right? They had gone through much worse together than Cas being confused. 

And Cas was just confused because there was nothing about Dean that was loveable.

His thoughts had been going in circles since he had left the bunker. 

He didn’t even know why he was so shell-shocked. Was it because he’d been tempted into kissing back?

Wait, what?

He hadn’t kissed back, surely. He had pushed Cas away because he didn’t want him to kiss him. 

Had he kissed back?

Good God, he needed a burger. 

Only when he sat in another diner did he realize that just a few months ago, he would have gone to find a bar instead. When had he started drinking less anyway?

When Cas had moved in. 

He frowned at his plate. When had he last had nothing but a greasy burger for lunch, while he was at it? There had been a time when he had eaten at least one a day. When had he jumped on Sam’s health train with salads and what not?

When Cas had moved in. 

He put his burger down and rubbed his face with his hand. He had forgotten what real exhaustion felt like. When had he started sleeping better anyway?  
When Cas had moved in.

He hadn’t even realized how much they had gained when Cas had decided to live with them.

He hadn’t felt that good in… years, really. Not since – 

He couldn’t even remember. 

And it wasn’t just him that had been happy, he was sure. Sammy had been so relaxed, and Cas – 

Cas.

He chewed his burger slowly and forced himself to relax. 

He thought of the kiss again. He had kissed back. Out of politeness, of course; you got kissed, you kissed back. It was how things were. 

It had not been a bad kiss, all things considered. For Cas’ lack of experience, it had been a very good kiss, to be honest. Passionate, soft, heartfelt – 

What? 

He wasn’t –

This wasn’t –

He was straight. He wasn’t gay. He had never looked at another guy – 

Of course that was when his traitorous brain decided to remind him of Benny. Random guys in bars he had checked out. Even Aaron had been kind of cute. 

And Cas, of course, was really handsome. These eyes – 

Stop. He had to stop. Cas was his friend. It was wrong to – 

But Cas had kissed him, so it wasn’t wrong, not really – 

Dean swallowed the rest of his burger. 

Was he really thinking what he thought he was thinking?

* * *

 

This was familiar, at least. Ever since Dean had realized that the damn kiss wouldn’t leave his mind for other reasons than the obvious ones, the old desire to get drunk had reasserted itself, and here he was, in a non-descript bar in a non-descript town at a non-descript highway on the way to nowhere. Where he belonged.

He still hadn’t called. Sam and Cas were bound to worry, but how should he explain something eh didn’t understand himself? Ever since he’d realized that he had kissed back and that it hadn’t been a bad kiss after all, his mind had tortured him with thoughts on what would have happened if he had stayed. It made absolutely no sense. He was straight, and he wasn’t attracted to Cas. 

But what if he had stayed? If they had exchanged more kisses, if he had drawn him closer, if they had been alone and not in front of Sam…

He was going insane. He needed to talk to someone, and for a crazy moment he contemplated calling Crowley. That’d be the icing on the cake, calling the King of Hell for relationship (not like that, not like that) advise.

He signalled the bartender for another whiskey. He was an older guy, reminded him a bit of Bobby, actually. 

“Girl trouble?” he asked and Dean smirked at the irony. 

“Something like that, yeah. I have this friend and they want more.”

“And you’re too chickenshit to go for it?”

Dean stared at him. Eventually, he said, “You aren’t going to get a lot of tips like this.”

“You’d be surprised. I just don’t understand why you’re here then, if they want you.”

The way he pronounced “they” made Dean think he suspected the truth. 

“’Cause I don’t want what they want” he said simply. 

The bartender rolled his eyes. “And that’s totally why people end up here. They feel so bad for rejecting their friends they need a drink.”

“What can I say? I’m just that good a person.”

“Bull. Even if you were, it’s almost Christmas. No point in drinking alone that time of the year. What’s really the problem?”

“I told you” Dean replied, now rather annoyed. This guy couldn’t get many tips, no matter what he said. 

“No. We have established that that’s not the problem. You’re sitting here, clearly missing them – so why aren’t you with them right now?”

Dean was tired of hearing the same question over and over again. He was leaving as soon as he finished the drink. 

“Tell me about them.” 

Dean didn’t really want to, but maybe the guy would stop the interrogation and that was all Dean wanted at the moment. 

“He’s my best friend” he began, tired of pretending. “And he kissed me. I had no idea he wanted me like that. So I ran.”

“Not the best course of action” the bartender commented. 

Dean threw him a dirty look. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

He raised his hand in mock-submission. 

“Just trying to help.”

“I bet” Dean muttered, but continued anyway. There was no reason to stop now. 

“We’re close, but not that close – I never even thought he would – and now I’m here. Barring my thoughts to a bartender like in a God damn road movie.”

“You wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t run.”

“I didn’t run. I left.”

“And what’s the difference?”

Dean decided to ignore him. Maybe he’d finally serve someone else. No such luck. 

“When did it happen?”

“Two days ago.”

“And have you called him at all since then?”

Dean looked down at his drink.

“Not that I wanna give you advice or anything, but he’s going to start thinking you don’t care about him.”

“I do. That’s why I left. So that he can get over it.”

“So you broke his heart and just left him there.”

When he said it like this, it sounded like a douche move. 

“And you think you’re still going to be friends when he gets over it?”

“I hope so” Dean said and before he could stop himself he went on, “We have to. He’s… one of the few who makes things bearable. I can’t lose him.”

“You’re sure you’re not in love with him?”

Dean stared at him. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve heard enough sob stories, and that sounds like you are.”

“I said we were close”

“There’s a difference between friendship and love. And your look just now, when you talked about him – “

“I’m not in love with him” Dean snapped. “I would have kissed back if I was.”

But you did, his brain helpfully supplied. 

“You ever been in love?”

Dean blinked. That was an odd question. “Yes” he answered, thinking of Lisa. 

“And? Feel familiar?”

Dean frowned. How many times did he have to tell that dick that he and Cas were just friends?

Of course he liked Cas. A lot. He liked it when he was near. He liked when they were watching movies and he slowly moved closer. He’d liked it when he’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and he’d felt him against him, sad and warm. He’d liked it when he stepped up to him, chocolate in hand, light in his eyes, and had fed it to him – 

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit. 

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. It felt different from Lisa; it had to because – because – 

With Lisa, it had never been that intense. He’d loved her. She had been his one shot at a normal life. But he hadn’t been in love with her. He knew that because – 

Because he was in love with Cas.

He was in love with Cas.

And he’d pushed him away. And left. And if it had been the last straw and he came back and Cas was gone – 

He’d have lost his chance with the one person who knew him inside out and still put up with his sorry ass. He couldn’t let that happen. 

Shit. He wasn’t good to drive. He put his glass down. He needed to find a motel and sober up. And then he needed to get back to Cas. 

“I – “ he looked at the bartender. What was he supposed to say?

He waved at him. 

“Don’t worry about it. Go and do right by your man.”

In the next moment, Dean was out of the bar, walking down the street and finding a motel near the parking lot. 

He would never know that the bartender went outside a few minutes later to meet someone. 

“Good work.”

“Thank you, sir”. The demon possessing the bartender looked at him, waiting for orders. Crowley sighed. That was the problem with demons. Too stupid, too little initiative. Unlike…

“Leave him unharmed” he ordered and he smoked out. He left the man unconscious on the pavement and disappeared, watching Dean stagger into the motel. 

Feelings. They would always be a mystery to him. The Winchesters had foiled his plans countless times, and yet he was making sure Dean found happiness with an angel he’d also fought against. 

Even if it was at the cost of – 

Crowley vanished. It was time for a large glass of Craig.

* * *

 

He should have known better. No, that wasn’t true. He had known better. He had known better and yet, when Dean had been standing so close, holding the mistletoe, not angry with Sam at all, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. 

He had kissed Dean because it had felt right, because he had wished to do it countless times, knowing Dean didn’t want him, didn’t feel about him that way.

And now Dean was gone. And Cas didn’t know how to pick up the pieces.

He had experienced heartbreak as a human before, when Dean had told him he could not stay. But this was different. Despite his best intentions, he had hoped. He hadn’t even realized he had, but he hadn’t been human long enough to analyze all the feelings that were constantly running through his mind. 

He didn’t know if Dean wanted him to leave. Chances were he did; but he couldn’t believe that he would tell him to go just like that again, when Sam wasn’t in danger. He was too good a man for that. But he could still ask him to leave. 

He would wait, however. He knew that Dean hadn’t like him leaving without a word in the past, and he didn’t want their friendship to end that way. 

And maybe Dean would understand. Maybe  Cas could promise he wouldn’t cross boundaries again, and they could stay best freidns for the rest of their lives. Cas wouldn’t mind never getting to kiss him again, to hold and cherish him as he longed to; if only they could stay friends. If only he didn’t lose Dean. 

Sam had tried to talk to him about the kiss, but there was nothing to say. His momentary lapse of judgement had driven Dean away, and he therefore had to ber the consequences. No matter what Dean wanted him to do, he would do it. 

Mostly, he was trying to cope and hide his feelings from Sam. He knew it was considered unhealthy, but he didn’t wish to cause his friend pain. 

He was looking through the pictures on his phone, as always feeling guilty as he did so. Some pictures he had taken with Dean’s consent – and he had blushed and told him he wasn’t a freaking model,  and Cas had stared and – but others, when he’d been researching or watching a movie Cas had just… 

He should delete them. All of them. What he felt while going through them was not desired by Dean, and therefore wrong. 

He hovered over the delete symbol, but couldn’t do it. His heart beat painfully in his chest when he realized this might very well be all he had left of the best friend he’d ever had. 

A knock on his door. 

“Cas, you need to eat something.”

“I’ll be right out”. 

Sam thankfully left it at that. Cas had been eating reasonably well since Dean had left, even though he’d lost most of his appetite when Dean had pushed him away. And the look on his face…

How could he have done that? How could he risk their freidnship like that? 

He sighed and came to dinner. 

They ate in silence. 

Then – 

Sam looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening. 

Cas had been so lost in his thoughts and regrets that he hadn’t paid attention to someone entering the bunker. His senses were not what they used to be.

He turned around.

Dean looked tired, like he hadn’t slept well in the last two days. But his eyes were bright, filled with something that Cas would have described as tentative hope if he had dared.

“ _Cas_.”

* * *

 

Sam had never been more grateful for his ability to read his brother. One look at Dean, and he knew that everything was going to be alright. He had finally realized, thank God. 

He stood up and left the room. Not that they noticed; they were too busy staring.

Why had Dean never realized how attractive Cas was? And not in an abstractive I-guess-my-friend-is-hot-way, but in a –it’s-Cas-and-he’s-gorgeous-way. 

He swallowed. Hopefully he hadn’t screwed this up beyond repair. 

“Cas – “

“Hello, Dean.”

Always Hello Dean. Right from the beginning. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my turn to apologize. I shouldn’t have presumed that you wanted to kiss me.” Cas looked away, suddenly shy. And that was just wrong. Cas was nice, kind, awkward, cute (and man did it feel weird to finally admit that to himself). But he shouldn’t be shy. Not when it came to Dean. Not his angel. 

Cas’ first impression had been that Dean had looked hopeful, but he couldn’t be sure. He had to make him understand that he expected nothing from him, that he could be happy with his friendship of it was all he ever got. 

“I – if you don’t – I understand, Dean. I will – “

“No!”

Cas flinched. Dean only then understood how he could easily misinterpret his meaning, especially since he’d avoided all talks about their relationship since 

Cas came to live with them, and he told himself he’d gone to Hell and back and could handle this and took his hand. 

“I’m – not against it”. Not the most romantic of declarations, but he hoped Cas would understand as he always had. 

He squeezed his hand. Cas was looking at their intertwined fingers, and when he looked up at him, his face was alight with a happiness Dean had never seen before. 

“I was surprised. It’s not like I – then again, it’s not like I didn’t – “ This was harder than it should have been. He already knew Cas had a thing for him (why, he’d never understand, but he wasn’t complaining) so what was the big deal? That it was Cas. That it meant something. He swallowed again. 

Cas touched his cheek with his free hand. 

“Dean, when I rescued you from Hell – I saw your soul. Completely.”

Dean looked away in shame, but Cas made him face him again with gently pressure. 

“And it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I know life hasn’t been easy on you.”

Dean snorted. Understatement of the century. Cas continued undeterred. 

“But you still have so much love to give – and to know –“ His hand trailed down from Dean’s cheek and settled over his heart. 

He decided that kissing Cas would be a good idea.

And once he registered how it actually felt, when he wasn’t surprised or freaking out, he decided that it was a wonderful one, and that he was going to do it every day from now on, because hot damn – 

Sam didn’t really want to eavesdrop, but after a few minutes, he just had to check on them. He slowly opened the door, caught a peak of them kissing, and left them to it. 

Once they had pulled back (which might have taken any time period between a few minutes and the whole day, Dean wasn’t sure) Dean couldn’t think of anything to say because there was somehow everything and nothing to say, and so what came out of his mouth was, “I totally forgot about Christmas dinner.”

“There’s still time” Cas said simply. “Let’s go grocery shopping, then.”

And just like that, Dean was being dragged to Baby by his angel boyfriend.

And treated to a makeout session in the backseat before they left. 

The most wonderful time of the year indeed.

Dean realized he hadn’t yet bought any Christmas presents and got Cas out of the way with the extremely smart plan of asking him to go see the sites; he shook his head at him but kissed him too, so he figured it was all good. He strolled through the mall a few times before he found what he was looking for, but it was worth it. 

On the way back, Dean suddenly remembered that they didn’t hve a tree, and he figured they needed one. Wouldn’t really be Christmas without it, since they bought ornaments and everything. 

“Hey Cas, what do you say we go into the woods and chop down a tree?” A smile was answer enough.

They took Sam with them because they couldn’t just exclude him from everything now, and he proved to be useful too, because it was far easier to watch Cas walk through the snow than look for a tree. Sam muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “smitten like a teenager” but Dean didn’t mind, and he believed his brother didn’t either. 

They managed to chop down the tree, even if they had never done it before, and brought it to the bunker okay even though Dean, when he swept the corridor later, was glad they hadn’t taken Baby. 

It was worth it, though. Later that night (because screw tradition; they had the tree, they might as well decorate it, and Cas looked so stoked to do it) the tree looked awesome. 

And very green. 

* * *

 

Dean had been wrong before, when he thought he just needed a decent night of sleep to feel good. 

This, this was feeling good. 

Knowing that his brother was home, safe and sound; having gotten a solid eight hours of sleep after Cas had kissed him goodnight at his door, sweet, short and loving; being together with Cas.

He had a boyfriend.

And he had never been so freaking happy in his life.

So apparently he’d moved past gay panic and right up to cloud freaking nine. 

He couldn’t have cared less. 

Since they had bought enough food yesterday to feed an army, he could go all out over the next few days. He hoped Cas would like the goose (Sam had raised an eyebrow when he had muttered yesterday that “Sherlock Holmes liked it”, but thankfully hadn’t said anything) tomorrow; first things first though, it was still Christmas Eve and for the first time since flames had consumed what could have been their future, everything looked bright and promising. 

Sam had never thought he’d see this, and he had witnessed how Dean looked at Cassie and Lisa. But when he strolled in the kitchen, there was no other way to describe it. 

Dean was _glowing_ , singing along with Last Christmas of all songs in a low voice, making toast. He looked more relaxed, happier than Sam had ever seen him. 

And they only had gone shopping yesterday. Imagine what would happen after their first date.

“Morning” he greeted Dean and his brother jumped.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Cas is still asleep?”

“I guess”.

It surprised Sam somewhat to hear that Dean didn’t know; after all, they were together now, and Dean had never hesitated when it came to sex. In the next moment, he could have slapped himself. Of course Dean would take it slow. 

This meant something; this meant everything, judging from the smile he wore just thinking about Cas.

In younger years, Sam would have been worried what would happen if this crashed and burned. But knowing Cas and Dean, it wouldn’t. 

“So” he said, eyeing the ingredients on the counter, “Do you plan on cooking the whole day?”

The explanation that followed – as to how and why Dean could easily prepare lunch and dinner both in about an hour, because some things needed to simmer and some didn’t, and others just looked hard but were pretty easy to make – caused Sam to consider whether Dean would have liked to have gone to culinary school if it had been in the cards. Probably. 

Cas stumbled in a few minutes later and greeted Sam in passing before he drew Dean in a good morning kiss. Sam smiled and looked away. Let them indulge themselves a little. It was all still so new. 

They ate breakfast when Cas forced Dean to sit down and actually consume something instead of cook on, and later he decided to make him watch a movie with him before lunch. Sam went to read in his room; he figured they wanted some time alone. 

They didn’t watch a lot of _A Christmas Story_ ; most of the time they were busy cuddling or making out. Now that Dean had finally admitted to himself what he wanted, it was like a dam had broken and they were making up for lost time – well, in all things but one; he wanted to take it slow in that respect.  
Cas was worth it. 

And for some reason, he seemed to think that Dean was worth it too.

“So, you looking forward to tomorrow?” he asked as they watched Christmas presents being opened. 

“I already got my best gift” Cas said and it was the corniest thing anyone had ever said to him. Dean blushed. 

“You know, I might get used to this” he muttered. “You should stop”. 

“Never”. And now Cas looked downright mischievous. Suddenly, Dean realized something. Or perhaps he had known the whole time. 

“You did know you shouldn’t get drunk, and eat vegetables, and all that other stuff, right?”

“What can I say? I want you to be healthy and happy.”

Dean sighed. “Just don’t try to make me cut back on the pie.”

“I would never try that.”

Dean had the suspicion that he would eventually, but didn’t mind. And that let him know just how screwed he really was. No way was he ever getting away from this relationship.

Then again, it wasn’t like he wanted to. 

Cas insisted on helping him with lunch and dinner, and since Dean was there to watch him, nothing happened. 

Well, aside from freaking great meals, that was. He really thought Sam would cry for a moment when he saw the salad they had prepared. Dean grinned. It was freaking worth it. 

The rest of the day, they drank eggnog, watched some more Christmas specials and relaxed. Garth and a few other hunters they had helped recently called to wish them the compliment of the season.

It was a good day, especially with Cas at his side.

Then it was time to go to bed. Tomorrow was the big day, and he really hoped the others liked the presents he’d purchased yesterday when he’d sent Cas to look around while they were shopping. But that wasn’t what was foremost on his mind. 

Dean swallowed. There was something he wanted, but he wasn’t sure how to tell him. He decided to just try and see what happened. 

“Cas?” he asked. “Would you maybe like to… sleep next to me?”

Cas’ smile was answer enough, and his room had never felt more like _home_ than the moment Cas slipped under the sheets with him. 

“Merry Christmas” Cas whispered, cuddling up to him. 

Dean kissed his head. “Merry Christmas” he whispered back. 

If the rest was going to be like today, there was no way it wouldn’t be.

* * *

 

Dean woke up on Christmas morning with Cas spooning him. More importantly, he woke up from Cas slowly, sensuously kissing his neck.

“Cas – “ he muttered, trying to sound calm and relaxed, which was not easy when all he wanted was to press closer, give him more access. 

Good God, right now he couldn’t have cared less about not being as straight as he’d thought. 

“Is this okay?” Cas muttered against his skin, as if he was the king of the one night stands, not Dean. 

“Yes. But are you sure – “ 

“Dean, I’ve been sure for years.”

And that was that. 

Starting Christmas Day with having sex would have been awesome either way, but this was so much more.

Dean had never felt like this. And not because he was sleeping with a man, but because it was Cas. 

Afterwards, they lay in one another arms, their heartbeats slowly returning to normal.

“Dude, best. Christmas. Ever.”

Cas chuckled. “It’s only just begun.”

“Even better.”

On such a day as this, even Sam slept long, so that they could afford a nap before getting up. When Dean woke up, Cas was still out cold, and he left him in bed to start on lunch.  

He figured a goose couldn’t be that different from a turkey to cook, so he should be good. He smiled at the Christmas tree they had decorated yesterday, blushing when he remembered the moment he’d realized why Cas had wanted so many green ornaments. Sam had barely been able to breathe after he’d assured Dean completely serious that “I have sadly been unable to find one that matches your eyes exactly.”

Dean didn’t mind. If he’d tried, he would never have found one that fit Cas’ ones, either. They were too… blue. 

Alright, so he wasn’t a freaking poet. Sue him. 

Cas was entirely too good at sneaking around, he decided when suddenly two arms wrapped around him from behind and a soft kiss was pressed against his neck.

“You weren’t there” he muttered.

“It’s Christmas. Someone has to cook.”

Cas squeezed him as something occurred to Dean. He laughed. 

“What is it?”

Dean turned to look at him. “We’re that annoying couple that ruin’s everyone’s party by acting all lovey-dovey” he explained. 

“That’s a good thing” Cas answered, completely serious, with a pleased little smile. 

“Yeah” Dean said, “that’s a very good thing.”

Hell, if they had encountered a cupid lately, he’d have thought he had been dosed by one of the bastards. And it felt glorious. 

* * *

It had been a long time since Sam actually whistled as he walked down to the kitchen. But it was Christmas, and he had finally seen his brother happy all day yesterday. If that wasn’t reason enough – 

He was still relieved when he found them cooking and not making out in the kitchen. Not that he begrudged them their happiness, but they prepared food in there. 

Oh, he thought when he saw his brother. He really didn’t need to know what he and Cas had got up to last night, but he knew him too well. Dean had got laid. 

The light in his eyes was new, though.

“No presents?” Dean rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to open presents on an empty stomach. Give me a few minutes to make sandwiches, the goose is for later.” 

“Isn’t the tradition to open them immediately?” Cas asked. “We’re making our own traditions” Dean said simply.

And so they did. 

Sam felt a little wary when he opened Dean’s present to him – not because he thought he wouldn’t like it, but because he wouldn’t put it past him to hide something like a jack-in-the-box in there as well.

Nothing happened though, except that he found a book. 

_The Knights of the Round Table.  
_

“Dean” he said gently, lifting the book for Cas to see. 

“What? You loved it when you were a kid. Just don’t expect me to read it to you.”

“Why not?” Cas asked, pouting. Dean blushed and looked away. 

“My present’s just the right thing, then” Sam said smoothly and Dean tore off the paper (call him childish, so what?” to reveal an expensive collector’s edition of Kurt Vonnegut’s best-known novels. “I remembered you liked him” Sam explained eagerly. 

“I – “ Dean began suddenly, finding it hard to speak. It was the first book he had ever got as a present and not for research. He didn’t know how to react. 

Cas gently touched his wrist, and he gave his brother a smile, telling himself that he certainly didn’t look like he could cry any minute. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“You’re welcome.”

Cas ended up with more Dickens, and Dean could only imagine the glee with which Sam had picked out books he wouldn’t have touched in school with a ten-foot pole. 

He suddenly thought of Cas cuddled up to him as he read Oliver Twist and decided it wasn’t such a bad gift at all, quite the contrary. 

Cas had given Sam something that of course made the little nerd happy – he’d single-handedly written out a dictionary of Enochian, not the stuff the prophet had got centuries ago, but actually useful phrases the angels still used today. 

He had no idea when Cas had found the time. It explained why he liked to sleep long, though. 

Sam had given Cas several fancy notebooks, which was not only thoughtful but such a big coincidence that he would have felt irrationally jealous if Cas hadn’t thrown him a look just then that should be reserved for… other occasions. 

“Open yours” Cas encouraged him, blushing, and Dean couldn’t help his heart beating wildly as he did. 

It was a small package. 

Cas said gently, “I remember you used to wear leather bracelets – “

It was a leather bracelet. With two small ornaments. 

A green pentagram (and how had Cas even found one in this colour?) and a small blue feather. 

This was… more than an ordinary gift. This was… almost something like – something that showed they beloned together. 

Dean swallowed, then realized he should probably react. 

“Thanks, Cas, it’s great” he said somewhat lamely, then realizing that Cas might be thinking he didn’t like it so he pulled him into a kiss. 

“Mine’s gonna look rather lame now” he whispered, but Cas shook his head. 

Cas shook his head as he opened it, clearly not believing him. 

He studied the small plastic tool he discovered, and Dean looked away.

“It’s a queen catcher” he said. “I thought you might wanna start a beehive in spring – we got a lot of space behind the bunker, and spring’s the best time to do it.”

He was well aware of the implications.

_You’re here to stay.  
_

_I want to make you feel at home here.  
_

_We’re still going to be together in the spring, and any springs yet to come._

“Sam” Cas announced, “you should look after the goose.” Before Dean could freak out, he continued, “I am afraid you wouldn’t like me showing my appreciation for Dean’s gift.”

Sam was out of the room in a moment, and Dean had a lap full of ex-angel the very same second. 

“Dean – “

And there followed a snog session unlike anyone Dean had known before. 

Once they had calmed down enough, they joined Sam in the kitchen. 

“Shut up” he muttered when he saw his brother’s smirk, but there was no fire behind it. 

It was the best Christmas any of them had ever had. 

After dinner (which was delicious, not that Dean wanted to brag) Cas dragged him outside because it was snowing again, and Sam just waved at them. Dean stuck his tongue out at him but didn’t let go of Cas’ hand. 

It was a beautiful night. The snow danced among the tress, Cas was laughing, and Dean couldn’t help but stare. 

“Dean?” Cas was looking at him happily, and Dean suddenly had a suspicion. 

“If you say God bless us, everyone, I swear to God – “

“I was thinking of something different.”

And there amidst the falling snow, Cas pulled him close and whispered “I love 

you” against his lips. 

Dean gently cradled his face in his hands and whispered back a promise of Christmases to come.

_“I love you.”_


End file.
